My tender moment today: My student, "Jack," was sitting next to me during my planning period. He was supposed to be in the library with the rest of his class, but he was having a tough day and I knew it would be nothing but trouble if I left him there.
"I wish I was white," he says. "Why?" I ask.
"Black people are mean," he says. I scramble to think of a good way to explain, knowing that Jack's parents are really hard on him and abusive at times.
"Not really, think about Ms. H and all the nice black people that work here. And, sometimes white people are mean too. It just depends on the person, not what color they are."
"Well, really I just want to be white so I can be your son," Jack whispers, looking at the carpet.
And that's when my heart melted and I wished I could scoop him up and take him home with me.