It was seven am when I arrived and already there were little children running around all over the place. As I entered the office, I could see the receptionist looking at me. I wondered what …show more content…
As I sat there eating with hundreds of students, I felt hope. This is why I wish to be a teacher because I see all these children together, eating, speaking, and playing without so much as a notion of all the oppression and pressures that are seemingly clouding our adult minds, choking us. They do not care about race, sex (except that the opposites are yucky), or class. All they seem to care about is friendship and being happy. If I could I would preserve this ideology forever, but somewhere at some time these students like the rest of us will become adults and start to define themselves based on whatever notion they feel describes them. This is where I feel classism comes into play, according to Gregory Mantsios's 2006 journal “Class in America” (as cited in Adams et al. 2013) “thirty-seven million Americans across the nation live in unrelenting poverty.” I wonder how many of these children fall into that category or if they even know it. At what point do we start to realize it and why? Why do we let these types of labels separate us from each