janradder

For nearly eight years I worked as a preschool teacher in Minneapolis and the surrounding suburbs. Two years of that was spent at Head Start which, if you weren't already aware, serves families who live in extreme poverty.

This morning I opened the paper to see that a 16 year old Minneapolis kid was being charged as an adult in a fatal crash caused after he stole a car and led police on a high speed chase through city streets. I remembered reading abut the crash when it happened. It wasn't too far from where we live and the chase passed just two blocks north of our house. It killed a mother and injured her son who was in the car.

I started reading the article but didn't look closely at the photo. When the story got to the kid's name, I looked over at the accompanying mug shot and there was Don. I taught him when he was three years old. He was this sweet little chunk of a kid -- very much like my son Éiden, who is also a chunk -- quiet but funny, fiercely loyal to his older brother who was also in my class and who had some severe behavioral issues. Though he was the youngest in the class, he never took a nap. He lay quietly on his mat in the dark classroom. Every now and then you'd look over and he'd be sitting up, peering over a shelf. He stood out from the other kids but I really couldn't tell you why. There was something different, something unique about him. His father had recently been released from prison and had gang connections, but at the same time he was enormously involved in his sons lives in a positive way -- coming into school to check on them, making sure he was at home for them. I'd always wondered what happened happened to Don because he was one of the kids that stuck in my memory. I hoped that he wouldn't fall into that same world as his father -- in fact, I hoped that for all the kids in the house. They were really nice kids. Apparently, at least for Don, staying out of trouble wasn't the case.

In the mug shot, Don still looks like that sweet three year old I knew. The baby fat still surrounds his face. His eyes still have a kind of squinty look to them. Most of the kids I taught at Head Start didn't come from the best of homes and even when they came from good, supportive, involved families, they were surrounded by gangs, drugs, and crime in their neighborhoods. I can't say that I'm surprised one of my former students now has a criminal record. I'm just really sad that the mug shot I finally saw turned out to be Don's. I just can't stop seeing him sitting up on his mat, staring out at me through the dark.