I recently had a former student of mine send me a message that started with “Hey ms. gray dont know if u care or not but I got my g.e.d. today and I don’t know if you remember [student] but he got killed”
My initial thought was CONGRATULATIONS! And how great of an accomplishment it is to reverse a decision that you made at an earlier part of your young life. Then of course, the overwhelming sadness of the loss of a former student.
My “babies” [as I like to call them] are from Baltimore City. The odds are stacked against some of them in ways that would be considered inhumane, if they lived one county or even a street over in some cases. Not only do they have to face these unfair realities but, they also are black. In a society where the color of your skin STILL determines your life’s trajectory, they are the true definition of roses that grew from concrete. They faced each day with an [oftentimes moody] teenage curiosity and optimism that a teacher’s eye easily picks up.
So as I congratulated him and reflected about our class experiences, I felt the impending gloom and sadness about my other student’s senseless death and an even greater sadness that his friend’s great accomplishment of getting his GED will always be connected with the sudden loss of his friend.
Now, almost 5 years since they’ve had me as a teacher, when they send me messages on Facebook or text me that they remembered something funny that happened in our 9th grade class, or that they got an A on one of their college exams, or that they’re thinking of getting a new car, I still feel a great responsibility to engage with and care about them.
No matter how many times they talked too much, fell asleep at their desks, made mistakes while writing or talking, laughed when they should’ve listened, or just were typical high school students, I never stopped caring about them. To all of my former students who read this, I’m proud to have been your teacher and proud of you. To my student who received his GED, continue to do your best for yourself and your classmate who senselessly lost his life. Living 20 years is an accomplishment I’m sick of having for our people. Despite the odds, the real feat is that roses continue to grow from Baltimore City concrete.