"When I've gone to my extreme and my work's in vain it seems, Jesus is with me when I need him most."


These lyrics have been so encouraging for me this week. Being a public school teacher and mom of black boys in today's craziness is hard, to say the least. I am consistently reminded of how much I just CANNOT. I mean cannot speak up every time I observe problematic instances in the white supremacist institution of public education.  I cannot teach kids to seek to unlearn wrong history so they can be part of real change in our world. I cannot teach kids how to be good humans. I cannot give my own little black boys the time they need. I cannot find hardly any time to do one of the primary things that gives me the most life--singing. And this is why I'm so thankful for the community to which I belong. I usually come to our city village gatherings exhausted from a day of teaching and managing student personalities. Our shared meal, check-ins, scripture study are all so special to me (no matter if I'm wrangling my two year old for half the time). But last week, I am most thankful for the song at the end of our time together. Singing, clapping, finding our harmonies (sometimes--haha) reminds me of home. It reminds me that I am right where I need to be. Singing together reminds me that I am a part of a community both in that room and across the ages. Singing reminds me that my momma is with me (because at this stage in my life, I'm trying to embody her strength and wisdom). Singing reminds me that regardless of the time I have (or do not have) with my black sons, they know that they are loved by me. Singing reminds me that the work I do is a part of a long line of black educators cheering for me. That all those who have struggled, endured, and gone on are still with me. That Jesus is with me.