Working on the Ground Floor of the American Dream

Ah, yes, it is raining away, but work does not stop. I miss my bikes, and the trainer simply sucks. all hail yoga.

I'm sitting in my classroom, reading paragraphs about my students' families.

Kids are so great, so open, so trusting, they tell me what they really see, think, feel.

Although they have been through so very much in their immigrant lives, gang-filled lives, drug-infested lives, outwardly hopeless lives, they trust their future. They learn English, they struggle to reach things most American kids are freely given, and so often, my students succeed.

Damn straight there's a tear in my eye.

This once stressful job has become a miracle teaching me to believe in my country again.

Sometimes it's so easy to forget, in the midst of corporate greed, rising costs of living, and the annoyance of my district's lack of keeping our pay current with inflation, that this still is the land of opportunity.

And I am blessed to be its eye witness.

Everyday.