Harsh Reality

I can’t get the image out of my mind. That face of someone who will now be headed to prison for a violent crime. Yet, in my thoughts, I still see him as a sweet, loving second grader in my school where I was his principal.  He was in my own son’s class, and was a quiet, rather shy young man. My son, Sam, often took it upon himself to help this boy understand tasks and was partnered with him many times to ensure that he was able to keep up with the rest. Sam talked about him often, worried about him, wondered about him, because even at age seven, Sam knew that this classmate did not have the comforts of a middle-class lifestyle at home. Even at the age of seven, Sam knew he had privilege this boy did not.

I liked this child very much. He had a sweet nature about him, but he struggled with reading. I wonder what could have been had someone stepped up to show him how important schooling is? I wonder if he’d had more resources at home if he might have made better choices later in life. I wonder if our school had done a better job of filling the gaps for him that his face would not now be as a mug shot, headed to prison.

I don’t know what happened in his life after second grade, but it appears he continued to not have the resources that he needed to keep school a priority.

I have no idea how a quiet, docile young child becomes so violent.

I am sad beyond words. Forever reminded of the ones that slipped through the cracks. I also am grieving at the reality that this is not an isolated case.

Until we address the ramifications of generational poverty, this story will unfortunately continue.