The Brothers

If someone asked me which of my former students I would most like to walk into my classroom today, I’d say, without hesitation, the Lopez brothers. They came to us the last year my former school was open, and at first, they were just sort of there. They were the kind of students who could easily be overlooked and forgotten. Isaac was in 8th grade; David and Daniel, twins, were in 7th. I had them in separate classes, and while I could get Isaac to speak, albeit softly, David and Daniel said nothing. Even when asked a question directly, they’d smirk and look down. Spanish was the language spoken in their home, and I assumed that their silence was their way of coping with their lack of understanding. I was wrong. They understood more than I knew.

Daniel was in my advisor group, and on more than one occasion I caught him, and only him, chuckling at my sarcastic and often lame jokes. David and Isaac, although quiet, were engaged and interested in class too. Soon, they began to stick around after school, even though missing the bus meant an hour’s walk home. “Would you like to see a trick?” Isaac asked on one of these days. David and Daniel giggled behind him. “It’s very tricky,” Isaac continued. Soon, I was the one giggling as Isaac shared his card tricks with me. “Can you do this too?” I asked the twins. They looked at each other, and Isaac responded, “They can.”

Day after day the three of them stuck around for at least an hour after school. Some days they sat in my room. Some days in Greg’s room next door. When they’d leave, Greg and I would share stories about the afternoon. “Have you noticed how Isaac uses the word ‘rapidly’ over and over?” I shared one afternoon. “He says it’s his favorite word.” Rapidly, rapidly, rapidly. He liked the sound of it. Soon, I did too. Slowly, Daniel and David began to talk, usually to make fun of Isaac or one another. Their gibes never turned harsh, but demonstrated their absolute love and respect for their big brother and for each other. They let me in on a few of their inside jokes, but most of them they saved for themselves. Their card playing and giggling became one of the best parts of my week.

At conference time, their mother came to talk about their progress. The Lopez brothers weren’t stellar students, but their character could not be matched. I was eager to tell Mrs. Lopez how much I enjoyed her boys, and that I admired how she had raised them to be such good people. She arrived for conferences with Isaac, David, Daniel, and at least three of her other nine children in tow. She had taken off time from work to be there. I told her how lucky I was to have her sons in my classroom. She thanked me for my compliments and then told her boys their academic performance mattered as much as their kindness. She was right, and they listened. That night, I gained a new level of respect for this single mother, and found a new mission as a teacher. Our after school time gained a new focus, and by the end of year, the Lopez brothers turned in work more consistently and confidently.

Over the years, Greg and I have often recalled stories about these boys, and Greg keeps a picture of the three of them in his closet. So today after school when I turned around to respond to my name, there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. Despite five years distance, I knew immediately who was standing in front of me. “Isaac Lopez!" I said. "What a pleasure to see you here.” Next to him stood David, although I admit I had to ask. I never could tell him apart from Daniel. They had come to say hello. Greg was as excited as I was, and the two of us bombarded them with questions and memories about the three of them. Isaac did most of the talking, still, but let David speak for himself as well. Isaac is enrolled in culinary school. Daniel and David will graduate from high school this year. Their mom is doing well, and has adopted their cousins. All three joined the army last year. They are happy, articulate, and confident men. And they promised to come back again soon -- with Daniel.

This is, in all likelihood, my last year teaching middle school, and I can’t help but feel that today’s visit was a scene from my very own episode of “This is Your Life.” As I contemplate my upcoming transition, I’ve wondered what impact I’ve had in this job and whether or not I’ve done enough before moving on. Today, my answer walked through the door.