The Road Not Taken

I just finished watching "Boyz n the Hood" for the first time. It wasn't an intended part of my post, but it had a profound enough effect on me to make it into this entry.

Set in South Central L.A. in the early 1990s, the movie follows two brothers, Doughboy and Ricky, and their friend Tre, who lives across the street. Ricky and Tre have reached the end of high school, and each have bright futures ahead of them in athletics and academics -- but they are haunted by the destructive lifestyles chosen by so many young men around them, including Doughboy. In the end, Ricky is gunned down by gang members provoked by Doughboy's volatile temper.

I'm not about to attempt a full-blown commentary on this situation faced by boys across the country. This movie just elicited an emotional reaction from me, because in those characters, I see the young men whom I teach every day.

Today, I had a very candid talk with my class. I mentioned in passing that I expect all of them to master our material because it will be important to their continued education in college. One student commented quietly (he didn't think I could hear him),

"No way they'll let me into college."

You should know two things about this young man, whom we'll call Devon. He is very intelligent and comprehends math concepts easily. He also has a troubled past, having moved from another city two years ago. Judging by Devon's comment, he has embraced an all-too-common self-fulfilling prophecy. He believes that his future is more or less set. He probably envisions himself living a life of low-paying menial jobs, broken relationships, and possibly even prison. When I heard his comment, I felt the call and need to speak what was on my heart.

What I explained to the class was that I truly expect them to have the opportunity to attend college when they graduate from high school. If they choose not to attend, it will indeed be because they chose another path... not because their high school career precluded it. I expect them to take difficult classes after mine -- classes that would stretch their abilities, cause them headaches, challenge them.

Most of all, I wanted them all to know that they still had a clean slate ahead of them. Regardless of what ghosts might hang over them, they had the potential to change, and to see a better fate befall them than they had witnessed.

I walk into class every day taking for granted that every student will still be there. Granted, Durham, NC is nowhere close to Los Angeles in terms of daily stress and danger. Maybe I'm getting too worked up over a movie. My hope is to milk every opportunity I have with these kids, even if only for 90 days.