The beautiful and grim reality of Alisal

Today was career day at Cesar Chavez Elementary school in the Alisal, and I, along with a dozen professionals, came to the school to try to inspire the children into seeking higher education. There were professional basketball players, firefighters, corrections officers, college professors, and one or two journalists. We all gave the students 'high fives' in the cafeteria, and then we had a chance to talk to them in their classrooms. You have to read every day, study hard, and pay attention in class, I told them. These kids are all so precious in their curiosity, their eagerness, their bilingualism: the ease in and out of English and Spanish like a fish swimming in two different waters without noticing if it's sweet or salty.

Then came the questions: Do you go when someone gets shot? And the comments: My uncle got shot in the stomach five times and he died. My cousin saw when somebody got shot the other day. My mom wants us to move out of here. It seems like every single one of the kids I visited with had an experience with violence, experiences that had clearly left marks. And that's all they wanted to talk about. It made me wonder, how much time is there for processing this type of trauma when you have to focus on learning? And can you focus on learning when you haven't processed the trauma?