A few more thoughts

Since I have time to decompress, I'll take this moment to write down a few more thoughts.

Sometimes I wonder if I chose the right career. When teachers belittle themselves by saying, "I can't do anything else but teach," I wonder if I'm in the right field. I know I can do other things, and yet I stay in the classroom.

On Wednesday I was leaving to go home. As I walked to my car, I heard a child screaming and carrying on. It was a cold day filled with light snow showers and so when I heard the screaming cries of "Let me in!" I thought it was way too cold to be stuck outside. I looked across the street and I saw a boy, arms flailing about, screaming for someone to let him in to his small brick ranch house. Part of me said not to go over to the house because I didn't know the child, but then the other part of me was compelled to walk over there anyway; and so I walked over.

As I approached the boy, I had a better glimpse of the child, and I realized that it was a former student of mine who was now in sixth grade at the nearby middle school. As I continued to walk over, I said his name. "Charles*?" A small whimper came. "Yes." He held his head up. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and a lone tear dangled on the curve of his cheek. As I continued to walk forward, my heart ached for this poor child who was home alone, locked out. The wind picked up and knocked us both. As I stood on the steps he told me that he was locked out, his mom wasn't home yet, and worst, someone had stolen his keys off of his backpack during Social Studies.

I asked him if he wanted to go over to the school to call his parents to come and get him, and he said yes. I put my arm around him and walked him over to his second home, my school. We pounded on the front doors of the school. Thankfully another teacher was on her way out, and she let us in. He called his parents, and as I sat and waited with him, I was thankful that I was there to help him. I don't think any child should have to wait outside for any amount of time. Perhaps that's because it has happened to me, and I know how awful that feels.

Eventually Charles' mom came to the school and picked him up. As he got into his mom's minivan, he said, "thank you so much." I just smiled and he drove away, all the way across the street. I'm just happy he had a warm place to go when he was in trouble.

Yes, I do question my profession from time to time. Usually when that happens, there's something there to remind me of why I do what I do. It's because of kids like Charles. And I hope that whoever is being a jerk to Charles has his keys stolen one day so he can know how hard that is. Hopefully someone will be there to let him in to a warm place.