I See You

Today as I was walking through the learning center in our high school I had an experience that made me stop and think about some things that I tend to forget, as a teacher.

Just for reference, I am a life skills teacher for grades 9-12 at what is almost a 6A school in the state of Texas. For those that don’t know, that is a student body of over 2100 students, and we are fast approaching that. But I love our campus. We have huge plate glass windows that allows a ton of light. We have a learning center that is the center of the school: lots of tables for kids to sit at, and desks where they can meet with their teachers and get tutoring help if they need it. As a life skills teacher I merely pass through it. Most of my work is done in the classroom, and I don't even have an assigned space in the learning center because I don't need it and would never use it.

But on this particular day I was walking through the learning center and I barely noticed three boys sitting at a table playing on their phones. It was the first of four lunch periods. As I passed by, one of these young men called out to me: “Miss? Miss, do you have any snacks?”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. And this is high school. I have a natural wariness built in when I’m approached by a random student. We all do.

“I’m sorry, do I have any what?”

“Do you have any snacks?” he repeated. One of his friends frowned at him and told him to “Stop being stupid.”

“When is your lunch period?” I asked.

“It’s now, but I don’t have any money. I’m hungry.” I took in his face. Tired, with dark circles. I apologized and said I was sorry, that I didn’t have anything on me to give him. I walked back to my classroom (my own class was with their aide at PE), and suddenly it struck me. What did it take for this young man to let his guard down, call out to a teacher he didn’t know at all, and in front of his friends, swallow his pride and ask for food? He really is hungry, I thought. It wasn’t a prank, or a joke. So I got a bag and put some snacks in there from my classroom. It wasn’t much. Just some milk and juice, applesauce, apple, and some candy. I walked back up the stairs and he was still there. As I approached the table, the group got very quiet and stared ferociously at their phones. I handed him the bag and his face lit up and I wanted to cry.

“Go eat it in the cafeteria, okay? I’m sorry it’s not more.” He said thank you and I smiled and left. But he was thankful. And I was happy that I could do something for him, even though it didn’t feel like much!

Teachers are tired. Students are tired. Parents are tired. Almost two years after the pandemic, we are recalibrating and adjusting to what is a new normal. In public schools as teachers we have a tendency sometimes to assume the worst, because a lot of times, the situations we deal with are pretty bad. But today this young man reminded me how important it is to stop and really look at people, and not just to look at them, but to see them. I wish I could feed him every day. I wish none of our kiddos ever came to school hungry, or tired, or scared, or angry. But some of them do. Some of them deal with situations at home that would scar an adult for life. It's easy to forget that. The stress of what we deal with in the day to day can cause us to turn inward, to let empathy fall by the wayside. But this young man gave me a gentle reminder today, even though he probably didn't realize it: to be more mindful of those around me, and that even a small act of kindness can make a huge difference to someone else.