Hope and Raspberry Muffins

It's 5:15 in the morning. I should still be sleeping. At least for another 15 minutes. Instead, I'm sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the oven to preheat. Raspberry muffin mix is strewn across the countertops, and maybe even a little bit in my hair. Give me a break, the sun isn't up yet, I could hardly see what I was doing. But it doesn't matter, anyway. Little Mack has finally asked to meet in the mornings for tutoring. And two days in a row he has stayed true to his commitment. Two days in a row, I have gone to pick him up from the hallway where the buses drop off the students, and both days he walked towards me himself, without pretending like he didn't see me and without any complaining. And yesterday (drum roll, please), when a friend made fun of him for coming to study with me, he said, "Man, it helps me!" I could have cried. And if I wasn't so focused on making use of every one of the 13 minutes we have before class starts, I may have.

Maybe it's the fact that my SmartBoard is finally working, so we can now do his flashcards on the interactive board. Maybe it's because I bring him muffins and a Capri Sun every time he comes. Maybe it's because we had a test this week and he knew he was behind. Or maybe (and hopefully), he's finally starting to understand how much knowing his addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division facts will make his life and math class easier. That counting 8 minus 5 on your fingers is not efficient. That not knowing 3 divided by 3 equals 1 is a problem for a 7th grader. Regardless, he wants to practice.

It's the small successes that keep me going. Because heaven knows if I was counting on the big ones, I wouldn't be here, in education or in Enfield. Small steps, my friends.