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Doing Schoolwork Now
By Allan Luks
What if a sizeable group of people felt no connection to the nation's terror fight? How would this affect the unity needed in all parts of the nation? Problem is, that group exists—in this country's poor youth who are used to living with violence. I live part-time in Sandisfield, MA and am a social service director at Big Brothers Big Sisters in New York. This essay in dialogue form accurately recreates my daily conversations with these youngsters and demonstrates the need for people everywhere to reach out to them now.
"You heard right from the school. I failed the big math test. But I told my math teacher it wasn't fair since I can't concentrate because of what the terrorists did, and no one knows when they're coming back. I told her the director of the agency where I go after school said the same thing."
"Hold it," I told this teenager. "I mentioned to you and some of the others in your program that my mind wanders at times because I'll start thinking of any way I might help the fight against terrorism. But I didn't say I neglect my work."
"Yeah, well, I told her good things about you too. I told her how since September 11 you have us hold each other's hands to start some meetings to feel we're family. I said we could do that in her class."
"I'm afraid to ask, but is your junior high math teacher young and pretty?"
"Don't be getting on me," he said. "She's old like you."
"Yes. Well, you could try to explain to her that old family members like me give second chances, and ask for a re-test."
"I did. I failed it. I still can't think normal."
"Are you really distracted about the terror threat?" I tried. "Or are you just goofing off? I think I know the answer."
"Listen, we can't leave school at lunch. But one of my friends, he cut class this one day. I'm not telling you why. But I gave him money, and he dropped off flowers for me at school. I gave them to this math teacher because I know she had a friend who died in the trade center. I want to help like you."
"Was that helping or bribery?"
"Man, be fair. I still failed. Hey, maybe I failed math because I'm stupid like the English people. But you read us that stupid people are good fighters."
"What? No, no—When I read from the history book that during the German terror bombing of London, the British said they were ignorant—they were joking about themselves. They meant that they weren't frightened even though they should be because of all the death and horror caused by the bombs. But you understand this. You just said that. You're not stupid—but lazy."
"Why you picking on me?" he said. "Everyone knows you've been speaking to that other group here for guys who been arrested and telling them to volunteer near the trade center or someplace. You told them it'll keep them out of more trouble, I know. But I'm not like them. I'm not doing stupid stuff, hitting anyone. I'm just coming here for after-school tutoring. And with my school class, I already volunteered once at a place helping children who lost their mothers and fathers in the towers."
"But when your social worker told me about your test and excuse, I wanted to speak to you," I said. "Most of your grades are bad and they shouldn't be. I'm getting after you because maybe you're one of my favorites. I want you to be honest about the life around you—not use it as an excuse."
"You know what my friends say about the social workers they got? Social workers don't know how to change themselves, so they keep telling everyone else to change."
"Interesting."
"The guys aren't talking about you, of course, because you're the boss."
"I'm sure. But you should know that I'm trying to change too now. I want to use my job to get many more people to help each other. Because that contributes to the country feeling stronger."
"If I become a helper, you count that in your contribution?" he asked.
"Yes, I'd like to. I want to get a lot of people to feel connected. So I'm trying now with you. I'd like you to volunteer at one of the centers that are still aiding families affected by the attack."
"I already did," he answered. "After September 11, my school class went to one place where they served food to the workers. A whole block on the West Side. The workers who cut the iron came by. Big guys. We talked to one guy. When he left we called him Paul Bunyan."
"That's awhile ago. Volunteer now with a few friends or on your own."
"I remember when we gave out the food. I saw how other people working there watched us. They see kids like me helping, but they don't think we want to connect with them."
"Don't use other people as an excuse. It's a bad excuse. It's what we've been discussing. Maybe if you volunteer a number of times, you'll at least change the people who come to the charity you're at. You'll start to be a leader."
"Yeah, I could be a leader," he said. "That time with my class. We saw Paul Bunyan go back and we looked down the West Side Highway after him and could see the smoke from the two towers. He was going right toward it. When I remember Paul Bunyan, it's funny, like I want to cry. I'm not crying—it's not like you see tears on my face, but you know. Don't tell anyone I'm saying that. The students in my class, they see me as a leader."
"Good, this country needs leaders now who can bring people together," I said. "If you become one, that'd make my contribution especially important."
"I'll volunteer at some place next week," the teenager said. "I'm promising. But I still bet when they see me they'll think some director, like you, told me to do it, and that I don't really feel like helping."
"Are you still looking for an excuse not to do it? Is it because it requires a little effort?"
"Why do you think like that? I'm not lazy. You got to forget the math test. I'm going to volunteer."
"I forgot the math test."
"And don't forget not to tell any of the others I mentioned feeling crying. Because if you did, you'd give them their excuse not to volunteer."
"I don't want to be the reason someone didn't do what's right. If a lot of your friends didn't care about being connected now, wouldn't that be scary for our country which is being threatened?"
"Why?"
"Can a team feel strong if it knows some players won't do their part in a very tense game?"
"Yeah, I got you. I told you I'm going to volunteer."
"I don't have to be scared?" I said. "I worry about the future."
"Not because of me."
"Wonderful. You're part of my contribution. I know I'm helping the future a little. I'm less nervous."
"I'm still not saying when they see me and my friends they'll think we really want to help. You got to be having two to connect. But you're the boss, it's your contribution."
"Then why don't you start worrying too? It's more your future than mine."
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