Vital Connections

It’s strange how my last entry was about humorous things from teachers. Today, I had a “hallmark” moment with a student. It just suddenly made my day, and I can’t help thinking about it. Although it could be false alarm, I think I will treasure this moment by sharing it.

There’s a particular student in my class who is not necessarily apathetic, but just bored. I don’t think even boredom is the problem. Whenever I look at him, I see confusion, unhappiness, and sometimes, inner turmoil. Several things go on in my mind: he’s shy, he’s not interested in English, he possibly has reading problems; he doesn’t even smile unless someone in class says something funny or says something to him personally without anyone else hearing. And even when he does smile, it’s only a flash that barely lasts a second or two.

I worry about him. For some reason, I always glance at him just to check up on him, just to see if he’ll ever come out of his shell.

Today, after class, he approached me to ask about his grade. It was our third encounter since my arrival (and I’ve been teaching about five weeks). I told him honestly what he was getting, and even then, he appeared nonchalant, like he never had any hope in the first place. The look on his face broke my heart. I felt like I was losing him, and it just saddened me. I tried to think of something happy, and so I asked him, “What are you doing this weekend? Are you going to have any fun?”

[dialogue has been slightly modified for confidentiality]

He suddenly beamed and said, “I’m going back to [county]?"

“Really? You’re from [county]?"

“That’s where I used to live," he replied. "I’m going there for the weekend to visit my friends.”

"I’m from there, too… Well, not exactly from there, but I live farther south from you, closer to the border. But I know your area. I had a couple of friends who lived there, and they later went on to SDSU. What mall do you shop in?"

"[so-and-so] Center."

"I know that place. I shop there too."

We both chuckled at the coincidence.

"How come you’re coming to school all the way up here?” I asked.

Here, he stated a personal problem to which I sympathized. He opened up a bit and told me some of the things that were happening in his life, and we discovered that we even had a few things in common. Despite all that, what made me happy inside was that he smiled the whole time we talked, which was a good three minutes. The five and half weeks that I have been there, a smile on his face was suddenly rare, and he genuinely looked happy as he talked about his old stomping ground.

As I wished him a good weekend, and to make sure he had fun, he smiled one more time at me and wished me the same. When the door closed behind him, I was in shock, and I nearly wanted to cry. Did he just open up to me? Did he wish me a nice weekend? Did he actually smile for more than a few seconds? Did I somehow make a connection with him that made him feel comfortable?

Sometimes a teacher’s moment doesn’t happen in the instructional process. That one student who smiled at me is worth more than a class full of A students.