Back to School
A little girl named Ivey changed my life. I met her in Kindergarten; she was 5, I was 30. I had volunteered to be a mentor through Communities in School in my county and was assigned to be Ivey’s tutor. I remember meeting this precious girl with wispy blond curls and a sweet, shy face. The first year we spent together she didn’t talk much, in fact many days when I arrived I was told she was out sick again. By the end of Kindergarten, I came to understand that constant ear infections and poor health care meant she had trouble hearing and thus trouble reading. We hung in there together and by the end of the year she managed some small smiles when I came to see her.
A little girl named Ivey changed my life. I met her in Kindergarten; she was 5, I was 30. I had volunteered to be a mentor through Communities in School in my county and was assigned to be Ivey’s tutor. I remember meeting this precious girl with wispy blond curls and a sweet, shy face. The first year we spent together she didn’t talk much, in fact many days when I arrived I was told she was out sick again. By the end of Kindergarten, I came to understand that constant ear infections and poor health care meant she had trouble hearing and thus trouble reading. We hung in there together and by the end of the year she managed some small smiles when I came to see her.
In 1st Grade I learned she often slept in class because nights at home could be unpredictable. In 2nd Grade I met her great-grandmother who sacrificed much to raise Ivey and her siblings. By that year we’d gotten to be good friends, Ivey and me. We’d hold hands and count by two walking to the library for tutoring every week…2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12…” What comes next Mrs. Toni Ruth?” I worried for Ivey. I worried for her home life, challenging like so many kids in our world. I worried for her in school, she needed so much more than one teacher with 25 kids to manage could meet. That summer she came to VBS at our church. What fun to watch her sing of God’s love with my own daughter!
In 3rd grade we still counted by two’s. The first EOG’s loomed and I wondered what would happen if Ivey didn’t pass. We read and talked, and did math and laughed. She took up residence in my heart and I knew she trusted me. Before those dreaded EOG’s I bought her a card that had a bracelet that said, “I believe in you.” Her face glowed when she put it on; it was as though it wasn’t something she often heard about herself. I committed to say it more often.
In 4th grade her teachers told me she was getting extra help. Our game of counting by 2’s all the way to the library always brought a smile. We talked more about life and hopes and dreams, music and which boys were cute. She loved to read, especially biographies. We had our picture taken together for a public service announcement in the paper about Communities in Schools. When I look at it now I see the shine of the tears in my eyes. The photographer had asked what we meant to each other and I’ll always remember the way she looked at me and smiled right before they took the picture – still the shy girl with wispy curls but now with growing confidence.
5th grade DARE Graduation came along. She was really proud of what she was learning about making good choices. She asked if I would come to see her get her certificate. “Of course” I said, oblivious to the reality that this was the sort of event parents would come to. I met her mother for the first time. She was younger than me, trying to do the right thing, her love for Ivey and Ivey’s for her was palpable even though they’d spent long stretches of time apart. 8, 10, 12, 14,16…conversations began to be about middle school and friendships and what she dreamed for the future. And then we found our we’d be moving, telling her was harder than telling my congregation. In 6 years together the love I felt was real and it mattered so much!
Ivey is starting her senior year in high school in a few weeks. I wish I could say that we’re still in touch, but time and distance (and teenage years) proved a bigger obstacle than I’d have thought. But I think of her often. Does she remember me? Did the seeds planted grow in her as they’ve grown in me? What does she dream today and where will her dreams take her?
While I can’t speak for her, I know for certain I am different because of Ivey. I drive past Pitts School Road Elementary where our church has a partnership and I wonder about the kids like Ivey that need someone to keep patiently counting by 2’s, someone to listen and offer stability, someone to say, “I believe in you.” I think about how 30 minutes once a week cost me so little, offered Ivey great hope, and changed me so much. And I wonder, is there room enough in our hearts to welcome the Ivey’s in our community who just need someone to show up for them. It’s back to school time. I think I’m ready for kindergarten again. Are you?
