No Child Left Behind

               Yesterday was the first day of a new school year. So many kids, with bright, shiny new shoes… so many kids in the same pair they've been wearing for three years now.

                So many lovely, young women and handsome, young men in designer fashions, perfect spray tans, and expertly colored and highlighted hair… so many in their older brother’s hand-me-downs, pale as ghosts from having stayed inside watching TV all summer, and Kool-Aid color hair.

                Young men and women, eager to learn, anxious to get started, with brand new school supplies spilling from their new back-packs… and far too many young men and women, just glad to be out of the house, with no energy or desire to learn, borrowing pencils and paper on the first day.

                 These are the two extremes of students I meet throughout these first days of the year. The differences at this stage of the semester are so striking that it’s hard not to notice the disparity. Sometimes I find I have entire classes composed of the second extreme, usually last hour when other kids are engaged in sports, work-study, or concurrent enrollment at another institution.  My heart is moved by the number of these marginalized kids and I want to do something for them, but then I remember it took nearly an entire paycheck to get my own kids ready to start school this week and they aren't wearing all new, designer clothes. How could I possibly help all of these others? Can anyone?

                 This post started to be kind of a rant about inequality and a treatise on why the richest country on the planet can't take care of its own kids... but (I'm sure you'll be glad to know) I ran into this picture in the course of my research:   

              And, of course, I was reminded that things could always be worse.  I think this is really starting to become my personal mantra. As I get older, God reminds me, sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently, that I actually have a good life and that instead of griping, I should count my blessings. I am both humbled and grateful.

              He also reminds me that life is not just about what I have and what I need. I am really and truly blessed and it is important that I recognize that and say thanks; but I also believe that we all have a genuine obligation to to share our blessings with others or, as some people have put it: pay it forward. 

           Obviously I don't have the wealth it would take to provide shoes and trendy clothes to all of the marginalized kids in my school. I also know that simply identifying them as marginalized is kind of snobbish of me. For me, my paying it forward has to be about being not just a good teacher, but a great teacher. I try to be a real mentor for my kids and to support and honor my colleagues. I consciously try to be a better person. Again, this is sounding a bit snobbish; I don't want anyone to think I am saying I'm perfect by any stretch of the imagination, only that I am aware of my blessings and trying to make an effort to improve myself. 

           We can all do this and I think we should. But the question is... how?  How do we change ourselves? How do we share our blessings with others?  Are we contributing to the good in the world or simply whining about the bad? 

            Unlike John Lennon, I don't want to imagine a world without anything important in it, but I do want to imagine a world where we appreciate what we have and in doing so, pass it along to others. Imagine if everyone did this. Even the poorest of the poor have some kind of blessing they could share. No one would have to feel like a burden or a charity case. Even rich people can receive blessings-- even from those who need their help the most. Everyone has something of worth, and I am not talking about material worth. Everyone has a blessing or two they could try and recognize and appreciate. 

           In addition to recognizing our own blessings, it is imperative that we also understand that our blessings are blessings for us. They may not be something someone else would feel is a for them... and that's okay. You don't have to like or want what I value, and I don't have to like or want that for which you are grateful. It doesn't diminish anything for either of us. Blessings are like people: no two are exactly the same.

           

            If we all worked together, we could genuinely have a reciprocal world where no one, not the rich or the poor, the intelligent or the struggling, the fortunate and the unfortunate... no, not even the children, are left behind.