This morning I got dressed way before my normal and, by 9:30 a.m., found myself sitting outside a funky, neighborhood coffee house with my trusty tea in an oversized mug, having the kind of easy, rambling conversation that can make any day brighter. And I was having it with a couple seriously hip girls.
I enjoyed every minute, and I hope there are more like it – soon – but boy did that dialogue stir a few things up in me, and watch out because here they come.
Ok I won’t go too far. But let’s just say this: Today I sat across from a friend who teaches in one of the roughest elementary schools in one of the roughest parts of Minneapolis. While spending an hour a week in her class this past year, I witnessed what she could do with that unruly, unsure, under-privileged, gold-hearted group of third graders – what she could see in them, what she could bring out of them…
It was more than beautiful. It was hope.
And today, Ms. W introduced me to a new friend, another volunteer in her class, who grew up in that neighborhood and is now a pediatric nurse.
Both of these women are smart, strong, funny, inspiring. Both are pouring their lives into the lives of others. Both are doing their passion. Both are the kind of people I would want to turn to if I were in desperate need, which is a good way to describe the kids and parents they serve.
And both are fighting for their jobs.
One is facing the potential of a strike, being accused in the media of being money-hungry, and being treated like a shady individual by the executives running her hospital. The other is still waiting for her contract to be renewed in a school that seems doomed to be closed, as she helplessly watches even the few resources she once had being taken away one by one (including the principal who poured every ounce of herself into that school).
Seriously?
Really.
This is where we’re at.
Come on, people!! Work with me here!
We are talking about teachers. Nurses. People who show up day after day to do jobs that our communities would collapse without and that most of us couldn’t handle for 15 minutes. These are people who work through lunch, and clean up vomit, and walk hurting people through their heart-breaking stories, and claw and fight to create life and hope and love in the midst of it.
Don’t they deserve a little more respect, a lot more support, and – gasp – maybe even a little more pay?
On behalf of these friends, their colleagues, and the vulnerable parts of society they serve—our sick children and our poverty-stricken children—can I just suggest that we rethink this? Something isn’t working. There is so much that’s not quite right, and I’m sure it’s complicated, and I’m no expert. But what if we could start pouring some energy into helping our teachers and nurses achieve the results they are working so hard for, instead of shutting them down at every turn?
What if?
by julie rybarczyk
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