comings and goings

I knew when I got a job with the school district's Homeless Education Program that the kids I got to know through weekly storytelling and daily tutoring might come and go at the drop of a hat. My boss Tamara (quoted extensively in this year-old Athens Banner-Herald article that remains relevant) warned that getting close to children and then having them leave with no chance to say goodbye was commonplace.

In the last ten months of my employment, I've walked into shelters and had staff tell me, "Oh, So-and-So's not here anymore, so she and her kids won't be meeting with you, but there's a new family that'll be here..." I tend to nod my head when, in more cases than not, I want to say, "Wait, what? They're gone? When did they leave? Where did they go? Is everyone safe? Is their moving out a positive thing, or were they kicked out? What happened?" This information is not my business, however, and I know it. So I nod and think of how I'll probably never see Jane and Joe and Jim ever again. (Granted, the names tend to be a bit more inventive than that--extremely exotic, sometimes beautiful, and sometimes baffling--but I can't reveal them here. Confidentiality and all.)

Today I found out that a family I've known for quite a long time is leaving: I'll never see them again, barring any accidental run-ins (during which I'm not supposed to acknowledge knowing them--there goes the confidentiality again). No goodbye.

Got to another place tonight and was told by a young child that a few other kids are now gone from that shelter, as they moved out. I've known those kids for many months, too.

The families that are moving on are going to be successful. I have much hope for them. After months of struggle with a couple of kids from each of the families (as well as really good times, too), I had some big breakthroughs in the last ten days or so--hugs, smiles, and "I love yous" from heretofore pouty, somewhat violent children. Perhaps that's my closure.

Tamara said it'd be hard to get used to the fact that the kids are in your life one day (or one year, even) and out the next, without a trace. Still, I hadn't felt that sadness today.

That's all.