As I ride in the passenger seat of my son‘s car, mile markers are passing by. These are the same mile markers that he saw four years ago as he was taken back to his hometown by the local foster care transporters. Four years ago, my son was unknown to me. Four years ago, my son was a ward of the state with no idea what his future looked like. And now I watch these mile markers pass by as he is driving to college. The significance of this trip is not lost on me.
Four years ago, he walked into my classroom. Three years ago, he walked into our house. Two years ago he took our last name. An now, he starts the first day of the rest of his life. He needed adults in his corner. He needed a safe home. He needed a village of supporters. He needed to be able to see the possibilities of his future, not the dire state of his current reality.
He didn’t need something perfect. He simply needed a chance.
Teachers, as we go back, we need to remember this. All kids need a chance. Call me a hopeless romantic. Call me naive, if you will. But I believe in the power of education. I believe it can change the course of a life. I believe it can change the world.
I believe in chances. I believe in him.
