Here was my big break through this week. Daniel answered a question correctly.

That's it. One simple - very simple, actually - question.

Daniel is just one of those kids who publication education has broken. He's not unintelligent, but years in a dysfunctional, abusive school system have convinced him otherwise. Daniel spent the first month of my class doing anything and everything he possibly could to get kicked out. He spent the next month proving to me he didn't care about his education. He's still tricking many of his teachers into believing this.

And yet yesterday, when I asked the class to work in groups to correct a run-on sentence, Daniel was the first to voice the answer.

I almost feel guilty for being so proud of this, to say it's the highlight of my week. His group was proud too. Daniel sits with five academically-strong girls. When he gave the right answer, this quiet group enthusiastically whooped and hollered, practically giving him a standing ovation. All of our faces lit up - Daniel's the brightest of all.

Does it disturb me that such a small triumph can make me so excited? Yes. Especially this late in the year. He's dangerously behind academically, and all I've suceeded in is getting him to answer one question. ONE.

And yet, the next time he decides to zone out, skip class, or arrive inebriated, I'll remember that moment and hold out hope.

It's a strange addiction - being an educator. The sense of doom and failure can bring on physical illness. The incessant thoughts can become all consuming and prevent sleep. And yet all it takes is one moment of strength - one hit - and all this is forgotten, or at least, worth the price you have pay.