M's Story

This is M's story. M has far too many names to list them all, but even in her vastness, she has been silenced by a nation with its head buried in the sand of the elite's beaches.

M lives on the border of Texas and Mexico. I am M's 8th grade reading teacher. She, like many of her classmates, are multiple academic years behind where she should be. Since she has been told it so many times, she believes the lie that passing a standardized test is all she needs to be successful in school. She was shocked when I refused to respond to her when she asked me questions in Spanish and looked at me in dismay when I told her class that Hispanic college entrance rates were grossly low for reasons mostly out of their control. I could see her trying to wrap her head around the statistics fueling the achievement gap. I could see the invisible tears flowing down her face just as the same invisible tears danced on mine as I told her about the discrepancies in education determined by socioeconomic class. The same way I hated saying, "Where we live is one of the communities securing the achievement gap.." I knew she hated hearing it. Although, as I mustered a charge for me students to "close the gap," I could see M's face brighten as if the hope of her teacher and her classmates awoke a beautiful sleeping spirit within her.

Beyond teaching M 45 minutes every day, I am also lucky enough to coach M in Cross Country. Per growing up in a grossly undereducated community that lacks any community health movement, M is overweight and generally propelled by nutrients from white carbs, sweets, and fritos. Although, she never uses her weight as an excuse to give up at practice. When other kids are listing excuses as to why they can't run, she asks her workout and begins without argument. Cross Country practice was the first time I realized, M needs to soar. I saw her stride hit the ground as if she were effortlessly walking on lily pads across a pond. Her pony tail trailed behind her as if it were dancing tango with the wind. Watching her run stung my heart because I realized the likelihood that her run might never leave our little border town. It stung my heart because I know the spirit her feet carry are needed in our world.

This realization was undeniably heightened at our first Cross Country meet. As M's race started I saw her keeping up with the pack, but as it continued she fell further and further behind. All of her teammates finished, but M was still far from the finish line. As her team panned the course looking for her, I could sense their worry for their teammate. "Ms. where is M? Is M okay? M works so hard every day, Ms." Soon, the entire team was huddled around me inquiring about their own race and the eventual fate of M. After fielding many questions, one girl interrupted, "There she is! There is M! Ms. can we go cheer for her?" My response, said without thought, was, "You have energy? Why don't you finish the race with her?" Every 7th and 8th grader, boy and girl that had huddled around me sung in unison, "Can we all go? Can we all run with her?" As my voice crackled "yes" their feet turned into turbo packs in an attempt to reach their teammate. M was dead last by a considerable amount, but she didn't finish alone. M finished with her entire team smiling next to her as they patted her back and said, "you can do this, you got this." Through shaking hands, I snapped a picture with my phone and tried unsuccessfully to swallow the growing lump in my throat. Beyond finishing the race with her, M's teammates fought over who would get her water and which one would chase down her gatorade. They returned to me as one, a cluster of beautiful young people.

Watching my team finish M's race as one induced pride in me that I had never felt before. Beyond pride, I felt a more frightening emotion, unmeasurable sorrow. Watching my team as a united group, running alongside their lagging teammate was an undeniable picture of their inherent benevolence. My students, my runners, have spirits that resemble a wide-sky Texas sunset, although their reach is far from similar to that of a sunset. My students beautiful spirits are dogged with educational inequity. Because I work at a school that is fueling the lower half of the achievement gap, I believe this is the wrong time for me to go into the gross happenings of educational inequity. Know, though, that my students are beautiful spirits that are at extreme risk for never touching the world beyond the border checkpoint 60 miles north of here.

The world needs my students. We need people who will run tirelessly next to us when we lag far behind. We need people who are inspired by benevolence rather than dollars. M's story is based primarily one on event, but it is a combination of the story of all of my students. My students, young people with beautiful, united spirits will almost inevitably be veiled by the inequities plaguing education in low income areas. Their hands will create solutions, their minds will solve problems, but their spirits will unite a broken world. We truly cannot allow the dark veil of injustice to stop them from flying...

When they soar, they will ensure we all soar too.