New Directions

When I wrote my first blog I said I would talk about my job at some time in the future, and I guess it is the future. I have been thinking a lot lately about events in our lives that lead us in new directions. I have a young friend who was prompted in a dream to look into adoption and is now in the process of making that dream come true. My daughter wanted to communicate with 2 deaf students at her middle school and checked out books on sign language, took classes and had many fulfilling, wonderful experiences because of her new skill. My new direction came in the form of a phone call. My children were all in school, I was enjoying being a PTA mom, making cupcakes, volunteering and working a three hour job at their school. I never applied for the job, but was asked if I would like it since I was there so much of the time. I enjoyed what I was doing and really liked all of the people I worked with. One day, I received a phone call asking if I would be interested in working in something called opportunity school, as an aide to help the teacher with children in Junior High with "problems". Little did I know my answer would start me on a 20 year journey that changed my life and broadened my world considerably.
I began to work in a classroom with about 10 children in 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. Keep in mind that I was very low on the totem pole in the district so I later found that I was the last of several phone calls, everyone else said "No way!" In my ignorance I accepted and was thrust from my very sheltered existence into the world of children with probation officers, psychiatrists, psychologists, foster parents, and a myriad of sad problems. I will change the names of my students when I write about them.
One young man I will call Abe, was a large native american boy, (6ft 4 in.). He was in 8th grade, an alcoholic with a huge problem with truancy. He was trying to get a gang of other American Indian kids to help in his fight against the hispanic gangs in town. He became my protector and my advocate. He was large and scary looking, so when the other students, mostly boys would give me a hard time he would jump up and yell, "Leave her alone." I won his acceptance by something so simple as walking by his desk and patting his arm, thanking him for doing his assignment, and of course bringing cookies. He told me that one time he didn't go home for 5 days and no one even called to see if he had been in school. His pain was apparent to me. He was a talented artist and had a wonderful sense of humor. I wanted to help change his life, and spent much time in prayer and tears over him. One day it came to me, maybe the only thing you can do is make sure he knows you like him. That became my creed as I worked for nearly 20 years with youth who were not always easy to like. I would pray about each one, trying to see and recognize their best qualities and make them aware of them. After 20 years in a job with an average stay time of four years, I knew I could no longer get my heart broken, I retired. I still think of these students often. I didn't ever change their circumstances, but I know they knew that "Mrs. Cherpeski likes me."
I would have missed so much and grown so much less if not for that phone call.