I looked toward Kevin. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I softened my voice. “Every morning, I get up before the sun rises so I can make sure families like yours wake up to clean streets. I come home tired, but I know I’ve done something good. And you know what? Every job—whether it’s a doctor, a teacher, or a garbage truck driver—has dignity. It’s not about how shiny the title is. It’s about how you live your life, how you take care of people, and how much heart you put into the work.”
A small hand shot into the air. A little girl in the front row asked, “Do you really drive the big truck with the robot arm?”
I chuckled. “That’s right. And sometimes, if the kids on my route are awake early enough, I honk the horn for them.”
The class erupted in whispers and giggles. Another boy raised his hand: “Do you get to crush stuff in the back of the truck?”
I nodded. “Oh, yes. The loud crunch you hear? That’s me making room for more.”
