Today's Lesson: Murder

You heard about the neighborhood grandma killed by a stray bullet last week? Nothing but a sin and a shame. Of course, everyone wants to know who did it. Longterm and much loved grandma--police better get all over this one.

Now, about a week later, they have a suspect. And I think I taught him American History. I'm not positive--I haven't seen the face. But I remember the name, and 18 is about the right age for him now.

Trippy, isn't it? To know that someone who sat in your classroom, exchanged normal teacher-student talk, chilled with his friends, flirted with girls....shot a grandmother by accident.

Last summer around this time, another student I tuaght was found dead in an alley. I found out in the newspaper. He was quiet, respectful, tried to turn his work in on time, but those PO meetings and court appointments kept distracting him. A PO (parole officer)? I had no idea. Later on, a student emailed me to confirm "Cheese got shot."

Teaching at the school that I did taught me quickly and thoroughly students are complex people. They are far more than who we think they are. That sweet kid with the stuffed book bag? He threw a chair at a teacher when she tried to take his weed. That b-boy? Total braniac. Girl with the braids? The quiet one in slacks and a polo? Had her third child week before school started. I'll never forget the soft-spoken dude, smart as get-out who dropped a packet of crack behind his seat. He came back later looking for "something," but by that time we'd already called the police.

So, this guy, I didn't know what to make of him (no need to put his name out there. Don't none of y'all know him). He was a kinda quiet around his pit-bull of a history teacher. He did have a record, though, and was giving his mama a hard time. After the year was over, we lost touch. We weren't exactly buddy-buddy.

Gets me thinking to how students are with you for a brief moment. You teach, and work, and talk, and review. Encourage, stay postive and focused. Lecture, grade, and give exams. You literally dump all who you are and want them to be into 180 days of 65 minutes, knowing every second that it's not enough. Your "up-til-2am" still isn't enough, but it's all you have.

And then they're gone. They go back into their own worlds that involve books, dinner, family reunions, piano lesson, sex, cartoon drawing, guns, jacking cars... or not. And occasionally they resurface. I've run into a few students in the mall, or on their jobs (and I beam and squeal with pride).

And then sometimes I scan the newspaper, like anybody else in the city, and see my student accidentally murdered someone. Ms. Henderson, remember me? Yes, but I hope it's not you.