Erin Brokovich is dead

I won't forget what my friend Leslie told me after she learned that I was volunteering my time four days a week to tutor a teenage boy who had never been to school. She said, "Joelle, you're like the Erin Brockovich of education." That's a lot to live up to. For one, my chest fails the expectation that Erin had of her own boobs. No amount of push-up bra will ever make me look like her.

Second, I didn't change anything. I failed, and it hurts. I didn't fight hard enough. I lost the battle. After getting Azarious enrolled in school for the first time in his life, and after four months of driving to his high school to teach him how to read during third period, it ended. When the second semester started, I was no longer put in to Azarious' schedule for one-on-one tutoring time. There's a lot that could be said about this, but I won't say it all. It does no good to point fingers at people's bad judgment calls. They can' t change their mistakes.

Azarious isn't going to school anymore. He dropped out before the school year ended, and I don't blame him. Yes, he had the physical ability to get to school and could have taken on the responsibility. But I get it. It's like telling a third grader that they need to take care of themself from now on, because no one else will help them. They don't have the training. As much as they want to take care of themself, it's hard. They need support.

I don't know what else to say. As much as I tried to be a hero, I failed. I guess it's God's reminder to me that try as I might, I can't save people. This thought doesn't help me sleep at night. But I know I serve a God of miracles. I serve the same God who held back the waters of the Red Sea, the God who brought Jericho tumbling down, the God who gave infant life through a geriatric woman. Though I fail, the Lord still does great things.