In our own backyard

Teaching turns your perspective upside down. You don't need to go to a famine-stricken country to realize how lucky you are; you just need to go to your local public schools. I teach in an affluent white-collar community. Yet, I know I teach homeless students. Well, I don't know for certain, and I couldn't tell you who exactly was homeless, but I know not every kid is welcome in his or her parents' home. They may have an address, but they don't always go home at night. They go from one friend's house to another, and if they are lucky, they land with a family who actually cares about them, and, if they make the right choices, they'll stay with that family, stay out of trouble, and finish high school. Have you ever driven by an outdoor high school hangout in the winter's cold and observed some sordid-looking 13 -17 year-olds? Have you ever wondered why they would stay outside smoking in the freezing cold instead of go somewhere warm? Have you ever wondered why they would rather be there instead of home? Do you really want to know the answers? Some of the kids are there because they've chosen to reject the guidance and wisdom that their parents have tried so hard to give them. Some of the kids are there because they are emotionally and physically safer there than any other place they've ever known. I live in an affluent community where everyone is supposed to be happy, where it is supposedly safe to walk at night, where lawns are neatly trimmed, where brick banks offering 10K CD's pop up on corners. Yet I still have students who have parents in prison. I still have students who are trying to get reacquainted with their mothers or fathers after years of absence. I still have students who are raising their younger siblings because there is nobody else to do it. I still have students who know they shouldn't ride with a drunk driver but don't know what to do when it is their very own parents who are drunk. Pain is everywhere. It's down the street from you. Literally.