I barely makeit out of the building and into my car before I lose it. Great heaving sobs that have my makeup running and lungs burning. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Erik’s voice, reminding me to settle down and breathe.
All of his usual zen bullshit.
Yet I try to focus on my breathing anyway. After a minute, when my hiccuping finally subsides, I open my eyes to find my cell phone.
Out of my entire family, Erik is my favorite. We’re only two years apart, and I know he won’t judge me for the decision I’m about to make. He answers my FaceTime call with a smile that quickly drops. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do it anymore,” I say, another wave of tears racking my body so hard that I can’t speak when he asks me to repeat myself because he can’t understand.
“Breathe, Nan. You’ve got to breathe. I’m gonna count, okay?”
He does his big-brother thing, counting to four, directing me to inhale slowly, hold it at the top, exhale it out until I can speak once again.
“I’m quitting,” I say, my throat thick and my voice like sandpaper.
His eyes widen even as his brows narrow. “You’re quitting?”
“I can’t do it anymore.”
He shakes his head, confusion written across his features that are so much like our father. Out of all five of us kids, he looks most like him. “What happened?”
I take a shuddering breath and press my shaking hand to my chest, almost unable to say it out loud. “One of my seniors, Stacey, she’s pregnant, and she asked me to be the godmother of her baby. Thegodmother, Erik. Because she said she doesn’t have anyone else in her life to ask.”
He doesn’t speak for a long time, only watches as I find some tissues in my glove compartment to mop up my face. Once I meet his gaze on my phone screen again, he asks, “What did you say?”
“I told her that as much as I love her, it wouldn’t be appropriate, and that if she thought about it more, I was sure she could come up with someone else in her life who she could ask. But that’s the thing…” My eyes sting with more tears. “She doesn’t have anyone else.” I stutter out the rest. “Sh-sh-she’s in foster care. She doesn’t have anyone except m-me. How f-fucked up is that?”
I have to stop because my crying gives way to a distraught moan from the depths of my soul as I think about the rest of my kids, and I smack my hand on the steering wheel as if the physical pain will take away the emotional toll.
With a ragged inhale, I tell my brother, “I gave Orlando money for prom tickets because he couldn’t afford them, and he wanted to take his girlfriend. And god, Manny—he and his mom finally received their green cards. He was so happy, but he’s worried about his dad because he still doesn’t have one. And Christopher has started hanging around with a gang, and…”
I dip my chin, all of my frustration and anger crashing over me so I can’t talk anymore, only cry for my students. For me. Forall the kids our society continuously allows to fall through the cracks.
Once I feel like I finally have most of it out, I clear my eyes with the back of my hand. “I can’t do it anymore. I have to quit. If I don’t, I don’t think I’ll have anything left to offer anyone. I already feel so empty.”
“You’re burned out,” Erik tells me quietly. “It’s understandable you feel this way, but don’t make any rash decisions. How many days of school do you have left?”
“A few weeks.”
“Okay, try to take it easy, but don’t quit.” When I open my mouth to argue, he holds up his hand. “I know how much you care about your students, which is why I think you shouldn’t make any decisions right now. I don’t want you to end up regretting anything later on. Then I want you to come stay with me for the summer.”
I blot a tissue under my nose. “You don’t want me in your house.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You have your hands full with Kai.”
“Who needs to spend time with his aunt.”
Sniffling, I give in with a nod because I could use baby snuggles, and Erik offers me a sad smile. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I’ll help you.”
I do believe Erik thinks that’s true. Yet with how barren I feel, utterly useless from constantly giving everything I have to a profession and a school that don’t give anything back, I’m not so sure.
But I don’t come from a family that quits anything. We don’t give up.
We work hard.
We overcome.
