An Impressive View

Teaching wasn’t an analytical choice for me – it was more of a revelation!  Only once did I ever contemplate doing something different and only because early in my teaching career, my father suggested that I meet with the general agent for Northwestern Mutual to talk about “opportunities.” 

So I did.  I drove to downtown Cleveland and met with the general agent to discuss the insurance business, opportunities, and compensation.  I took their personality exam and wondered what they would think of me.   I met and talked to several agents who were professional, well dressed, neatly groomed, and very encouraging.  I toured their offices at the top of one of Cleveland’s high rise office buildings and took in the views from the glass windows on all sides of the office.

           

The view from their floor was amazing too!  I could see the Browns’ stadium and the Lake Erie shoreline to the north; the distant eastern and western suburbs; and to the south, the steel mills along the Cuyahoga River.  It was very impressive. 

           
As cool as this was however, I knew I had a better view everyday - from the front of my classroom looking into the faces of my students at Olmsted Falls Middle School.  

I knew what my mission was – to teach and help children learn and grow.  I had known since 9^th grade.  My classroom was modest but the work I was doing was vital and the relationships with my students was priceless.  Fancy offices and the lure of more money was not appealing to me.  My linoleum floored classroom was just fine and my $10,400 contract were all the compensation I needed to remain where I could have that better view.

Pete

I met Pete Hassey in 10^th grade and our friendship affirmed my intention to become a teacher.  I was introduced to Pete, another sophomore, because he needed someone to help him on a daily basis.  Pete had Muscular Dystrophy and by then was confined to a motorized wheelchair.  It really was easy to help Pete so I agreed and so began a friendship that lasted until he died 4 years later. 

Each morning, Mrs. Korfant would arrive at my house in the school van, pick me up, and off to Pete’s house we’d go.  When we arrived at Pete’s house, he would usually be sitting in front of the TV sipping apple juice through a straw.  When he was done his mother would hold a bucket in front of him so he could cough the mucus out of his throat so he could breathe more easily – just so he could go to school.  Once he was done his Mom would put his coat on and then I would wheel him out the door and up the ramp to the van.  Mrs. Korfant and I would lock his chair in place before we jumped in and drove to school.

           

I learned from Pete, and Mrs. Korfant, that even though we all appeared to be very different people – a special needs bus driver, an athlete, and a wheel-chair bound student – we had a whole lot more in common than the few differences in our appearance.  These 10 minute rides from Pete’s house to Westlake High School were special times for me – I hope they were for Mrs. Korfant and Pete too.  We must have appeared to be the oddest trio rolling down the road, laughing and talking, teasing each other and having fun.  Mrs. Korfant had the best sense of humor and she could really make us laugh - teasing me and teasing Pete and I think her magic was making us all feel the same, and it felt great. 

           

Once we arrived, I would wheel Pete out of the van and into the boiler room where I’d help him get ready for school.  This meant taking his coat off first. I’d have to bend his arm to pull the coat sleeve over his arm to get it out.  Sometimes I’d bend his arm too hard and he would wince in pain…but he never got mad at me.  Instead, he would smile afterward and I know what that smile meant.  It meant “Thank you for helping me.”  Can you imagine hearing anything better than that?  Maybe, “I love you!” but few things could make you feel better.

           

I would then help Pete get seated properly by pulling him upright and then straightening his legs and making sure his feet were in the footrests just right.  After putting his books on his desktop and moving his hand to the control pen, he was off to class.

           

One day while walking through the main lobby of the school to get to my locker, I saw Pete looking up at the ceiling and for a moment I wondered what he was looking at.  From wherever you are sitting, I want you to tilt your head up and look up at the ceiling.  Now look back at your computer.  Look back up at the ceiling.  Now back to the computer.  You have just done something twice that Pete could not do once.  I quickly realized that he wasn’t looking at the ceiling because there was anything interesting there. His head had fallen backwards and he couldn’t pick it back up.

           

After helping Pete get reseated, I wondered how long he had been like that and how he must have felt.  I wondered how many people had passed by and noticed that he was having trouble?  I wondered how many people even bothered to say hi to him.

           

I knew then that I was destined to be a teacher, not because I was exceptional – rather because I knew that I liked helping others and my friendship with Pete affirmed this calling.

A Shameful Memory

An unfortunate event in 9^th grade was the most significant event in my decision to become a teacher as I witnessed repeated harassment and bullying of a classmate at the end of Health class.  It remains my shame to this day that I did nothing to intercede to help my classmate who had his lunch money extorted from him many days. 

My parents raised me better than that.  They raised me to do the right thing.  And I chose to do nothing!  I could have said something to Bobby after class, even “Hey man, don’t let him bother you!”  At least he would have known that somebody noticed and somebody cared.  As it was I’m sure he felt all alone and that nobody cared. 

           

I could have said something to Greg, "Leave him alone.”  At least he would have known that somebody noticed and somebody cared that what he was doing was wrong.  I don’t know why I didn’t do something – let the teacher know, let my parents know – something.  I guess I was too immature; too selfishly minded; maybe I was just glad it wasn’t me.  It is shameful and to this day I carry that shame because I can’t go back and undo it and I can’t ever make it right.  I lost the opportunity to help someone who needed me and I’ll never have the chance again.  

           

I learned for the first time that not everyone was having a good school experience like me; I learned that for some students school was difficult and unpleasant.  What was revealed to me then was that if I became a teacher I could help students have better school experiences.  I made my decision at that moment.  

This is the memory that fueled my desire to become a teacher and it is the fuel that drives me today to make sure that every student has a good experience in school.  This is why we are investing so heavily in building a culture of leadership among our students.  One person can do a little.  One hundred can do a lot.  By developing leaders through Student Council, Jr. Beta Club, Student Leadership Academy, Peer Leaders, Student Mentors, Student Ambassadors, News Team Members, Basketball, Cheer and Dance Teams, SRP Council, and Special Education Buddies, we are creating a school culture that is kinder and more supportive of each other.  And that is the way it should be.

What Does Your Love Letter Say To The World?

I didn’t know much about Mother Teresa until I bought a book of quotations in the early 90’s and began to read through it.  I knew that she worked with some of the poorest people in the world in the slums of Calcutta and won the Nobel Peace Prize for her work.  When I came to her page of quotations, I was stunned by their power and compassion.  She only had one page of quotes while the other notable leaders had multiple pages of quotes, but her words spoke to me like no one else’s.

           

            “We can do no great things – only small things with great love.”

           

            “I do not pray for success.  I ask for faithfulness.”

           

            “I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter  to the world.” 

I got her biography and read more about her and realized that these words were life-transforming…I am not sure if she really was of this earth or not.  It is hard for me to imagine a human being dedicating her work and life to living among people who are among the poorest in the world.  People who were destitute, unwanted, dying.  I found it truly remarkable that a Catholic Nun could dedicate herself to people of other faiths – people of the Hindu faith, the Muslim faith, and even people of no faith. 

Public educators do this too!  We write our own “love letter” to the world by doing the work that we do, serving every child who walks through our door regardless of their background.  What does your love letter say?   

"Holy Workers"

My wife, son, and I attended our church choir’s performance of Handel’s “Messiah” the week before Christmas, 2005.  It was an ambitious undertaking for a small church and a very commendable performance by the choir.  I think King George II would have leapt to his feet in appreciation just as he did during the “Messiah’s” premier.

As I sat in the audience, I scanned the sanctuary observing the diversity among our church family.  Elderly grandparents, sleeping babies, African Americans, Asian Americans, Americans of European ancestry, people of different political affiliations, people representing different economic attainment, and even a range of faith though we all claim to be Presbyterian – and just think about the differences in personalities!  Though our congregation is not nearly as diverse as some, I thought it interesting that people who are so different find grace in the same church sanctuary.

           

Where else do Americans find such welcome and acceptance?  American Public Schools!  Here Americans find a different, but still powerful kind of grace. 

Americans are so different – in faith, philosophy, political affiliations, race, ethnicity, age, ancestry, economic standing, and even sexual orientation.  But it really isn’t so remarkable that we are so different is it?  After all, this is America!  What is so remarkable is our commonality.  What “knits” people of such diversity together?  What commonalities do Americans share? What holds a nation of diverse and sometimes conflicting backgrounds together?

Three major things:  our democratic republic, our economic system of free enterprise, and our system of public education.  While some would argue which of the three is most important, they are all important and despite all of our differences, we all share the benefit these provide. 

           

In America the ability of an individual to secure political and economic franchise is neither automatic nor guaranteed.  It is an opportunity available to Americans and their ability to attain it depends to a large degree on the performance of America’s public schools.  Those people most disenfranchised from political and economic power in our country, by and large, are those people who have been least successful in school.   Those people suffering most have reaped the least benefit that public education can provide.  The performance of America’s public schools is of national importance and of importance for every single child.

           

In the season of Christmas, Hanukah, and Kwanza, I was reminded that public school educators do what Lorraine Monroe calls “holy work” in “sacred places.”  They impact the life of every child they teach and they change those lives in long lasting measure.  Their work helps our students secure the political and economic benefit that is unavailable without them.

Public school educators deserve honor and blessing for doing the work they do and for serving the children and families they serve.  As individuals and as a nation, we owe them that.

Public School Educators Promote "The General Welfare" of All Citizens

We take much for granted.  Sometimes we lose sight of what our founding fathers, men and women who worked for a cause far greater than themselves, knew was important.  They were interested in the “general welfare” of all citizens, not just their own welfare, and they often sacrificed their own welfare, and that of their families, to “secure the blessings of liberty” for all citizens. 

In today's "personalized playlist" society we live in, our pursuit of happiness often means we  choose a singular, “I want my fair share” perspective.  Our focus on "mine and mine alone" sometimes discounts the welfare of our neighbors.  Politically, religiously, socially, economically, it can seem like it is every man or woman for him or herself.  Compromise, consensus, give and take, a larger perspective, the commond good?  Does anyone think about the welfare of others anymore?

 

I think many do.  Public schools educators do.  The essence of their work is to “promote the general welfare” of all Americans and our society as a whole.  In my mind, the work of public schools does more to secure “the blessings of liberty” for our citizens than any other institution.

The authors of our country’s constitution wrote the words “general welfare” and “blessings of liberty” in the preamble purposefully to remind each succeeding generation of Americans of what is necessary to insure our nation’s future.  Helping our nation’s children succeed is the single most important task we have as a nation, and the most important task we have to achieve a “more perfect union.” 

The Letter "B"

I had many wonderful teachers during my school career but my 1^st grade teacher Mrs. Wyles, may have planted the seeds for my becoming a teacher, when she turned my misunderstanding of a homework assignment into a remarkable experience. 

           

We were studying the letter “B,” and we were to find letter B words in the newspaper and magazines, and bring them to share the next day.  I misunderstood and thought we were to bring in “things” with the letter “B.”   So I went home and put all my toys, including what I thought was a sterling example of the “letter B” – my Bullwinkle Bubble Bath Bottle – into one of the large brown paper grocery bags that Mom saved and carried it to school the next day. 

           

Imagine my surprise when all my classmates had neat, tidy little envelopes full of letter “B” words.  Imagine my teacher’s surprise too!

           

Well, Mrs. Wyles obviously knew an overachiever when she saw one and made arrangements for me to go show my letter “B” objects to the kindergarten class down the hall.  Can you imagine how important I felt to be “teaching” younger children about the letter “B?”

           

I’m pretty sure that Mrs. Wyles was not trying to “reassign” me to that kindergarten class because she did allow me to return to her classroom.  At six years old I wasn’t thinking about career options yet, but I don’t doubt that Mrs. Wyles’ positive response to my misunderstanding powerfully affected my soul and was a very significant reason why I became a teacher.