Our kids. Your kids.
The police described the home's conditions as a house in "complete disarray."
Don't talk me about letting a child explore their passions when they get home as if that is all they have to worry about.
"No working plumbing", let that sink in for a minute...
I don't care what you're point on Twitter is, if your point isn't the kids.
"They (police) found the kids wrapped in coats and an open oven for heat."
Don't talk to me about grit.
"a meth lab was found"
I don't want to hear about how you can't open up the world for your students with technology, because you don't have enough or the "wrong" device.
I'm mad. I'm sad. They're all our kids. Give one a hug today.
My twenty-nine kids have twenty-nine stories on how they arrived at Room 216's door. I can't control what happens when my kids leave the four walls of our school. I do know that for some of them, too many of them, that our class and school, is the safest they will be all day. I can give them that.
Some of these kids are fighting for their lives. So am I.
Thanks for reading.
I'm on Twitter @YourKidsTeacher
Photo:photo credit: GE Oven Dials (left) via photopin (license)