Educators Matter | Emily Palmer's Story
Content Warning // Violence/Death
Readers who may be sensitive to these topics, please take note.
If you've ever wondered about the power of a summer missions trip, look no further than Emily Palmer.
In 2013, Emily went to the inner city of Chicago with her youth group to set up and run a VBS in the park. The experience rocked her world. It was the first time she was exposed to a way of life outside the suburbs of Johnson County, Kansas. It was the first time she had experienced such diversity. It was the first time God set her heart on fire for at-risk children.
A little boy, who never told Emily his name, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into an area where he was playing with other children. He just wanted her to watch him and be with him. She immediately understood her job at that moment was not to hand out food as she had been doing but to wrap the love of Jesus around this little boy.
It's that moment Emily points back to as the one that changed everything and opened her heart to teach in the inner city.
As you read this difficult story, we hope Emily's reflection in mind:
"A lot of people said they wouldn't blame me for wanting to be done. But in my mind, it was no question. I knew it would be hard to accept that tragedy is, unfortunately, a part of it. I prayed frequently and asked God to lead me in the right direction. I felt like I had to keep going, but I knew I wasn't alone. These kids became my priority; they completely changed my world for the better. I realized life was never about me; it's about living for the kingdom of God, and in my world, that meant unconditionally using my gift of teaching. I believe God meant for me to be Jeancarlo's teacher; I believe God placed me in that building for many reasons, some that haven't happened yet."
– Emily Palmer, 4th-grade teacher, KCK
From the time she was three years old, Carole Ann Fleming says her daughter, Emily, instinctively knew she would be a teacher. It warmed her heart every time she passed by her daughter's room and quietly observed Emily standing in front of her carefully arranged stuffed animals and dolls, instructing them on the alphabet, numbers, or whatever she had learned that day in school. But when Emily finished college and began interviewing for jobs in one of Kansas City's most challenging districts, her motherly instincts kicked in.
"Emily, I know you need a job, but KCK? Certainly, there are some safer areas of town for you to apply for a job." Carole Ann tried to get her daughter to re-think her choice.
"Mom, I have tried, but all those doors have closed, and school starts in just a few weeks. I really feel like God might be calling me here." Emily replied with steely conviction.
"I know you love these kids, but maybe going to KCK after you have a few years under your belt would be a better option…I just don't want you to burn out after your first year or two."
"Mom, I really do appreciate your concern, but I have to follow this through."
Emily looked at her application one last time and hit "send." Within the hour, she received a notification from the HR department that her application had been referred for an interview. In no time at all, Emily lined up nine interviews over the next two days, and the phone kept ringing. Deciding nine was enough, Emily politely declined each additional principal's request.
As the clock ticked closer to 5p, Emily looked forward to the break between phone calls.
Zzz, Zzz, Zzz. Her phone vibrated on the table again. Emily sighed, knowing she had to say "no," to one more hopeful employer.
She answered. The principal introduced herself and briefly told Emily about her school. Emily waited patiently and then began her well-rehearsed lines to decline the interview. This principle, however, was determined and not going to take no for an answer.
"Well, what time is your first interview tomorrow morning?"
"8:30," Emily replied.
"OK, well, what if you came in and met with me before that interview? We aren't too far, and we'll have you off on your way in plenty of time."
Emily thought about it for a moment. She was sure this was not the school for her, but something in her spirit cracked the door open and prompted her to accept.
"It will be a good practice run for the other schools," Emily told herself.
8:20a the next day – en route to her second interview
The phone rang. She let it go to voice mail.
As she carefully and cautiously wove her car through the narrow neighborhood streets of KCK, all she could think about was her time at that first school. Was it possible God wanted her there?
"No," she told herself. She still had nine more interviews over the next two days. Certainly, one of these would be a better option.
She pulled in for her next interview and picked up her phone to retrieve her voice mail.
"Hello Emily, I'm calling to let you know that we would like to extend an offer to you to teach fourth grade. Please watch for an email that will include all the details."
Emily opened her email to find the offer, as described. It was a good offer.
"What is going on?" Emily whispered to herself as she grabbed her purse, stepped out of the car, and headed into her next interview.
Sitting in interview after interview, she found herself silently comparing each school to the first. Somewhere in the middle of the day, she knew. That first school was indeed where God was calling her to be.
"Hello, this is Emily Palmer. I want to accept the fourth-grade teaching position."
Emily had butterflies in her stomach. She felt equipped but, at the same time, unsteady. She knew God was guiding her into the unknown and would be with her every step of the way. What safer place could there be?
One Year Later
Jeancarlo walked back into the classroom and quietly sat down at his desk. It was the fourth time he'd used the restroom today, and Emily had noticed a pattern. Emily was concerned about him. Like many of his classmates, his clothes were often dirty. Unlike the others, he seemed to have to regulate his emotions to a much higher degree. She had briefly met his mother and knew her to be a committed, hard-working single mom, but not much else about the family's situation.
It was Emily's second year teaching in Kansas City, Kansas. Outside the school doors, the neighborhood was run down but relatively quiet most days. Filled with people from diverse backgrounds, the residents had one thing in common: the hope for a better life in America. Inside the school doors, educators and staff ran a tight ship, ensuring a safe, friendly environment the children could count on each day in addition to a warm meal. One hundred percent of Emily's students received the free and reduced lunch program.
During her first year, Emily learned to find and discover different ways to connect with each student. Their individual needs were significant and diverse. She learned to lean heavily on colleagues who helped her navigate this new environment that was starkly different from the quiet, homogenous suburb where she grew up.
Ninety-seven percent of the students at her school came from Hispanic heritage, and while most spoke at least some English, some arrived at her classroom door speaking only Spanish – something Emily now desperately wished she knew.
During her first year, she felt like she struck gold with a strategy to connect with a little girl named Clara, who began the school year speaking only Spanish. Emily created note cards with pictures of everyday classroom items like a pencil, desk, and door. Under each picture, she wrote the word in English. She then asked Clara to write the word above it in Spanish.
"If you help me learn Spanish," Emily told Clara, "I'll help you learn English!" Clara was delighted that not only was she going to learn how to speak English, but she was also going to help her non-Spanish-speaking teacher learn her language!
Emily had grown tremendously in her first year, but now, weeks into her second year, it was becoming quite apparent that this year would be especially tough. This group of kids needed a lot from her. Having learned the year before that she could not internalize each child's struggles, Emily committed herself to being that reliable, strong teacher the kids could count on for a listening ear, compassion, boundaries, and love.
"If I don't love them, who will?" she told her mother over dinner one evening.
It was Monday. As the children settled into some classroom games, Jeancarlo wandered up to Emily's desk to ask a question. Here was her opportunity.
"Jeancarlo, before you return to your seat, can I ask you something?"
"Si," Jeancarlo replied.
Emily raised an eyebrow with a smile.
"I mean, yes," Jeancarlo smiled back.
"Well, I've just noticed you use the bathroom a lot…is everything OK? If you aren't feeling well, I hope you'll let me know. I can send you down to the nurse, and she can get you something."
"Oh yes," Jeancarlo smiled sheepishly, looking down at his shoes. "I just really like to go into the bathroom because ours doesn't work."
"Oooooh, OK, that makes sense," Emily was struck by his honesty. She tried hard to contain her internal reaction to this new information. "Well, I'm glad you feel good! Come here – can I give you a hug?"
Without hesitation, Jeancarlo swung an arm around Emily, and she gave him a gentle squeeze. He was one of the more affectionate boys in her class and was always ready for a hug. In an age when many teachers may feel reluctant to hug their students, Emily's students were learning she was not one of them. Even if they cussed her out, threw tantrums, or had to send them to the office, Emily was always quick to get down to eye-level with the student when she could to reassure them, "I know you are mad, but I want you to know I still love you."
As Jeancarlo returned to his desk, Emily stood up and clapped her hands. The children clapped back in unison. This was their common language of attention.
"OK, class! I love hearing you having so much fun with this assignment, but please, let's remember to use our inside voices."
December 2019
The days moved into weeks, weeks into months, and Emily chose to focus on how much each student was already improving. She was finding a way to connect with each one, and that brought her joy.
It was the last day of school before winter break. Emily hung up her jacket and began walking through the classroom. She paused to pray. As much as she needed the break, she was extremely concerned about these children. Would they have enough food each day? Do their homes have heat? Would they be warm? Would anyone give them a Christmas present? She placed these worries at the foot of her Savior, knowing He is more than enough.
The students arrived, and it was rowdier than usual. The day before winter break always is. She had made a little bag for each child with some candy and a hand-written card inside. She was committed to showering these kids with as much love as she could muster, and when they left her room that afternoon, each one who would receive it got a hug.
Jeancarlo lingered at the back of the line. Finally, it was his turn to file past Mrs. Palmer.
"Jeancarlo!"
The little boy hugged his teacher tight.
"I'm sure going to miss you over break!"
Jeancarlo looked up at his teacher with his big brown eyes and heart-grabbing smile.
"Me too, Mrs. Palmer. I'm gonna miss you."
"I know. I hope you have a safe break, and I'll be right here waiting to see you again next month. It will be here before we know it, and I can't wait!"
"OK," Jeancarlo gave her another hug, smiled, and walked out the door.
It was the last time Emily would see this little boy who had grabbed her heart.
December 30, 2019
"How was your Christmas?" Emily's teaching friend asked as she took a sip of her coffee.
"Oh, it was so nice – crazy as usual but really fun. How about you?" Emily responded.
Emily couldn't believe winter break was going so fast. In less than a week, she'd be back at school in meetings, prepping for her students to return. While she treasured the time away, she also was anxious to see her kids. This particular afternoon, Emily had decided to meet up with two co-teachers to work on lesson plans and ideas for the upcoming semester.
Suddenly her phone rang. She looked down and then up at her friends.
"It's our principal," Emily said quizzically. The women stared back at her with confusion.
"Hello, this is Emily."
"Hi Emily, do you have a minute? I have something I need to discuss with you," the woman began.
"Sure. Is everything OK?" Emily replied.
"Have you seen the news?"
"Um, no, what happened?"
"Well," there was a long pause. "I just found out that one of the little boys in your classroom was killed last night." There was a long pause as she collected herself.
"What?" Emily said quietly. "Who?"
"It was Jeancarlo. The police are still investigating, but it appears he and his mother and older sister were murdered last night…"
"I'm sorry…did you say Jeancarlo…was killed?"
"I am so sorry," the principal paused and took a deep breath.
Tears filled Emily's eyes, and one of the other teachers handed her a tissue.
"Listen," the principal continued. "I want you to know I'm here for you – the district is here for you. Counselors have already been called in and are available to help you and all the children in your class," the principal continued. "I really want to encourage you to take advantage of that. If you need anything else, please call me."
The rest of the conversation was a blur.
Nothing could have prepared Emily for that call. As difficult as Jeancarlo could be, she adored his big brown eyes and million-dollar smile. He had a beautiful heart. He had just turned 10 in November. This was so unfair! He was so little and had so much life ahead of him.
Why? How? None of this made any sense.
Second Semester, January 2020
By the time the students returned to the classroom, everyone had heard the news about Jeancarlo, and a small army of counselors was on campus, ready to help.
Jeancarlo's death had a chilling effect on Emily's classroom. Many of the behavioral issues she managed during the first semester seemingly disappeared as the classroom now worked together to cope with the loss of their friend, trying to make sense of what happened.
The year would not get easier for Emily. While she struggled to process her grief and anxiety with a counselor, the world shut down right after spring break. Suddenly she was thrust into a new task of helping children connect in a virtual world while keeping tabs on their mental health.
That school year might have been enough to send even the strongest teachers looking for a new school in the suburbs, if not a new career altogether, but not Emily. To the amazement of her parents and many friends who told her they wouldn't blame her if she quit, Emily dug in her heels, rolled up her sleeves, and strengthened her resolve to be there for these children. They would not be forgotten under her watch.
As of this writing, it's been just over two-and-a-half years since Jeancarlo's death. Emily keeps a picture of him on the back side of her school badge. It's an important daily reminder of why she's here and the mission field God has placed in front of her.
