Every Wednesday from 9:00am- 9:30am, I sat in the front
office of the local public school in the low-income community in which I live
and serve. My youngest was receiving speech therapy from an excellent speech
pathologist who was on staff there. He would go back with her to her classroom
and I would wait in the front office. I would usually bring a book or some work
with me, but after the first few weeks,
I was simply too absorbed in all the activity that found its way to the
tireless administrative staff in the front office. Some of it was amusing and some of it
heartbreaking. This school is located in the heart of the inner city- in an area
where crime, poverty and neglect run rampant. This is a school that had at
least 4 lockdowns this past year due to the violence happening right outside
their building. My sister taught for 5 years at this school and her heart broke
for the students living in fear, living
without parental oversight or even regular meals. Yet despite the brokenness
that pervades this school, beauty, like a subtle ivy, creeps in unexpected
places.
I see the loving grandpa who comes each day to drop off his grandsons before
heading off to his second job. Once, I even saw him come back to school with
the lunch one of his grandsons had forgotten. I see the ever-smiling Ms. Harris who greets every child by
name and manages to answer phones, fill out late passes, give hugs and find a
spare uniform shirt for the little girl who never has the appropriate attire.
Beauty amid brokenness.
I see parents trying- some more than others. I hear “I love
yous” but I also hear harshness in the voices of some. I see the exhaustion,
desperation (and sometimes despondency) that is a result of adults who are
living in generational poverty. I also see teachers who don’t give up on their
students- who smile and remain hopeful despite the odds. I see Ms. Holle,
Justus’ beloved speech therapist, who still loves on her students after years of
teaching. Beauty amid brokeness.
I see the mother who explained to one of the staff that
her son wouldn’t be in school for the next few days because he had been
attacked by a vicious pitbull while he was playing in his front yard. The dog
tore into his leg and this precious boy had to be taken to the ER. I live not
to far from this mom- my boys play in our front yard. It all became too real too fast. I watched as the secretary came out from behind her desk and wrapped this
shaken mom into a hug and told her, “I’m praying for him and you.” Beauty
amid brokenness.
I see a young
father getting a late pass for his son. The son’s name is Sirius.
Good-naturedly, the secretary asks the dad how he came up with that name. I
love his response: “Well, I was studying constellations and the Sirius constellation is the brightest one in the galaxy, so I thought, I want my son to
be the brightest star." In a school where many of the children are without loving, involved
fathers, here was this dad who deeply valued the incalculabe worth of the son
he was raising. Beauty amid brokenness.
