I am constantly reminded of the uncertainty and vulnerability of my adult students each week when I am invariably asked the question, “Will you be here next week?”
About 20 years ago I began volunteering as a math teacher with a local, inner-city organization focused on helping adults to complete the GED (high school equivalency exam). Math is often the most challenging subject for adults pursuing their GED, making it the final hurdle to a passing exam score for many of my students.
Unlike a traditional high school experience, adults enrolled in GED programs have come to rely on a network of volunteers who augment generally understaffed (and underfunded) organizations to provide the teaching and support necessary to tackle high school-equivalent math, among other GED topics. This network, though dedicated, passionate and committed, works by a variable schedule, making consistency and continuity a challenge for many adult learners. When I was initially asked if I would be back next week, I attributed it to being a new face in the environment. However, well after establishing myself as a regular math teaching volunteer I continued to be asked this question each week. Clearly, there was still some uncertainty about my willingness to return for future teaching session that probably had little or nothing to do with me but more reflected my students’ recognition of their vulnerability and their uncertain learning environment.
Each week, a number of my students would be absent from my class. Initially, I saw this as a reflection of my teaching ability or inability, or some sort of incongruity of my approach in light of their need. Sometimes it was temporary and occasionally I would never see them again. In my effort to reassure my students that I would indeed be back the following week, I would often wonder, will you be back next week too? Over many years of teaching in this environment, I came to understand the struggles my students were overcoming simply to attend my class each week – variable work schedules, childcare and multiple jobs – reinforcing a genuine respect I had for those who stuck to it and achieved their goals. Many choose not to return due to a fraying of any of the patchwork of obligations facing my students. Some, however, do not return because they pass their GED test. This was made abundantly clear to me when I encountered a former student who was queuing up driver’s license renewal candidates waiting their turn for pictures at our DMV. She was an active member in class, quick with a response even without prompting. I was surprised when she abruptly stopped coming to class – I felt sure that she was gaining traction and would soon be able to take the exam. My wife and I were in her line when my ex-student turned from a stone-faced municipal worker, lit up with ecstatic shouts of, “Mr. Todd, Mr. Todd!” running up to give me a hug. Before I could introduce this excited Jamaican woman to my wife, she screamed, “I passed the test!” I was happy, proud and humbled, understanding immediately why she had stopped coming to my class.
Even after 20 years, I am regularly asked the question, “Will you be here next week?” I understand the earnestly asked request, knowing that it deserves a clear and reassuring answer.
“Yes, I will be here next week.”