I obtained a teaching certificate during COVID. I saw an opportunity to better myself. At the time, I was also transitioning to a new life. It was a tough time, to say the least. I wanted to do something meaningful and make a difference, and so I landed an online position teaching foster children.
Most days, I would sit at my laptop and meet with an elementary child who needed help reading. At first, it was daunting; something that was supposed to bring me joy brought me sadness; I had to look past the situations and focus on setting a positive learning path. After some time, the pandemic restrictions eased, and I was asked to teach in person; I refused, as visiting these children in person would mean becoming emotionally attached.
My heart ached for the betterment of their lives. I watched baffled, and although I wasn’t allowed to ask questions, the innocent ones told me things I would much rather not have heard. Sometimes, I would see things I wish I hadn’t seen. At times, I would submit a complaint, and the account would be taken away, and I could only hope something had changed for the child.
Some children gave up after one lesson; others came and went. Some stayed, like one 2nd grader, who I taught continuously for three years. Her name was Beautiful. I often wondered if her biological parents knew, just like her name, how beautiful she really was. She had long brown hair with bangs, a cute little button nose, a little sass, but she was determined. Always cooperative, polite, and ready to learn.
Over the years, I got to know Beautiful and her family. I commended her foster parents for the role they played in fostering two sisters. I watched Beautiful grow both physically and mentally. The struggling 2nd grader became a confident reader and made it to the honor roll by 5th grade. In the three years I taught her, there were a handful of times she wasn’t interested in a lesson. It was those times that I would put myself in her shoes and ask her to walk me through her day. She woke up early, went to school, spent the day learning, and then rushed home to after-school activities. She struggled with reading and homework; she struggled at school, she struggled with her sister, and was tossed between case workers, social workers, and therapists. She was also struggling silently inside with the uncertainty that no child her age should have to experience.
There is a measure of uncertainty in everyone’s life, but for a foster child it’s an uncertainty of not knowing. Silently, I questioned for her: Who was family? Where was home? What was the future? The children I taught all had one thing in common: they needed help. It made me think of the life of my own children. Positive reinforcement, stability, and a comfortable home were always at their disposal. A child’s foundation should be full of love. I hoped that every child who crossed my path took from me a measure of consolation, reassurance, and ease. Our paths crossed for a reason, and I hoped I made even a little bit of difference in their precious life.
My hours with Beautiful were consistent. I would make her time with me a little fun and give her my smile when she didn’t want to wear her own. She began to blossom, and slowly, I became the person I needed at her age. We talked about school, friends, and holidays. She shared her favorite things. We would read together, bonding over ‘Charlotte’s Web’ and ‘Alice in Wonderland’. I would listen to her read and feel a great sense of gratification as she went from sounding out words to reading fluently with expression.
Beautiful not only mimicked my life, but she also taught me a bit about myself. I struggled initially with my own new life, searching for some stability. I found something that was consistent and brought me joy. I became a better teacher and coach. I showed up every day and made a difference. She had taught me to be better at what I did. But what I really learned was that I had accomplished something I had set out to do. Just like Beautiful, I too had blossomed.
Like all things in life, our story came to an end when she graduated from elementary school with honors. I was praised for her awards and invited to her ceremony. I was very emotional the day I met Beautiful in person. I got to hug something I had only touched with my heart. I left without saying goodbye, knowing my time with her had come to an end. It really wasn’t a goodbye, but a new beginning for us both. I wished her the stars. Hoping that one day her dream of becoming a teacher would come true. I often think about her with a lot of mixed emotions. Our journey together was short, but I got to experience something so beautiful.
