it’s fairly common for poets and writers to take sub prime jobs. because of a lack of funding and interest, a lot of my peers lead workshops with at risk youth or incarcerated individuals. the first few times are awkward and curious. I imagine the poet would walk in, expecting the kids or inmates to bite. but, after a while of opening up, they become just regular students. the poet then gets lost in this illusion (or, depending on how you look at it, this reality) and forgets he’s why he’s working with these people. there develops a gnawing temptation to ask why this boy is in the program (is his mother passed? has he been held back 2 years?) or how this guy landed in prison (did he steal money? did he put someone in the hospital?). there are totally legitimate rationalizations to finding these things out and to not to. it happened to a close friend of my poetry professor in college. it’s happening to me now.
we went on a trip today. I spent a significant amount of time around some of our kids. we’re 1 of those attendance retaining programs, so if someone is a part of us, there’s a reason. there was this guy who was talking about his situation. his girlfriend’s 4 months pregnant. I just sat there trying to piece this reality together. he’s still in high school, isn’t old enough to order alcohol at a restaurant, not mature enough to even know that water is free in a restaurant, and someone’s going to call him Daddy. it makes me sad because his child will start with a serious disadvantage, which will only spiral down from there. it’s a self replicating dilemma. I … we, my coworkers and me, are there to try and break that cycle. but I feel powerless. I’m there to teach things like scansion and meditation; how the hell is that going to do anything for this kid? I could dedicate myself to helping him out (something I don’t mind doing) but there’s only 1 of me and probably half a dozen more like him. at times, I feel it’s a losing proposition.
and I look toward my other kids. the students who respect and listen to me, who try to emulate me. on more than 1 occasion, they’ve attempted to ditch their classes and spend more time with me. I hope it’s not because of the content of what I teach (say, how to defend against a knife slash) but the manner in which I teach (forgiving, relentless, intense personal attention, humor, directness … love). I get lost in the euphoria of being a good teacher that sometimes it hits me; they’re a part of my program for a reason. I’ve been tempted to ask about their situations but so far have refrained myself.
I worry actually knowing will depress me even more.