The newest chapter... They call me "miss"

I can hear their little voices now. They are sitting in my classroom, talking about work, friends, school. Everywhere I look, I see beautiful brown faces. This place is like nothing I have even imagined. I am the kind of teacher that I want to be here.

It is hard to believe that 45 minutes away from everything I have ever known exists a parallel universe. These students have real issues, not the kind that the suburbia child I have come to know so well, but the kind where they come to school so they have the opportunity to eat a meal for the day. It is not uncommon to have a student actual use words like "fuck", "shit" or "douche" in sentences when they are speaking directly to me. Words that I feel naughty for even typing, but words that I can show little to no emotion over when I hear them ringing through my ears.

There is another word, I hear it almost every time a student opens their mouth. They call me "miss", not Mrs. Tanguma, Ms. T, Tango... nope, just miss. They call all the women teachers in the building this name. It is their way of not allowing them to feel a connection to you. If they act like they don't know you, then they don't take it to seriously when they ditch your class, or dissapoint you. They think it gives them the right to be lazy or uncomitted. I can see that it is a part of their world, so engrained in who they are, they say it without realization at all.

I told them how it makes me feel. I have even answered their questions and called them student. They tell me I am different than their other teachers. They ask me why I am always so happy to see them. They ask me why I say hello to them in the hall. I have been with them 3 days, 3 days, and yet, I feel like I have meant more to them than most people. It isn't a dream though... I really do care about them. I see their overwhelming potential. It is as though God himself has given me a tiny little window into thier heart's desires. I can feel their struggles, I can see their fear.
They see that I am serious, my classroom will be a safe haven, a place where they can take risks, answer questions, talk openly (well to an extent). They laugh when I shoot them a mom look.

I have to tell you the truth... They actually call me Mrs. Tanguma now. I guess it doesn't take long to earn their respect, when you treat them like they are humans. When they call me "Miss", I also understand that it is part of their culture, one I need to learn to embrace the same way. Sometimes, when the mood is light, I call them on it, and sometimes, I just answer the question and move on.

I can see the lessons and values I will be learning. I can see how they will disappoint me. I can see how easy it is to love someone else's child, worry for someone else's child, and be angry with someone else's child. Having my own classroom is a journey... And so the story will continue.