My Heart Broke a Little Today: Urban Teaching isn't for the Faint

This conversation transpired with one of my students today:

Student: Miss Erin, will you get him? (points to a student next to him)
Me: That's not really something I can do. If he's bothering you, you can move to a different seat.
Student: He keeps poking my leg!
Me: That does sound distracting, and I'm sorry it's happening. The fastest way to fix this right now is for you to take a seat someplace else.
Student: Maybe I'll just punch him.
Me: Okay, think about what's going to happen if you do that. Who's going to get in trouble, you or him?
Student: Me.
Me: And they'll probably suspend you or put you out of class, which is definitely worse than this distraction.
Student: Yeah.
Me: Look, I know this sucks, but you know that as a young African American man, the world is looking for a reason to blame you for things and get you in trouble. Don't give them that reason.

And this student did something I'm not sure any of my African American young men have ever done - he reached his hand out for my hand and bent his fingers around mine. I'm not skilled at this kind of handshake, though I've seen them done a lot. I can't verbalize exactly what it meant that he did this, but it was an acknowledgment of sorts.

In that moment, my heart broke a little bit, that I had to say that to him, that it was true, that the world is looking for a reason to put this student out of class. It's my job to teach him how to play the SAT game so he can get a score to go to college, but there's another, bigger game that he has to play even to graduate high school and to live long enough to get to college.

I pray he does.