Sunday, December 31, 2006

Making a Difference


Don’t we all just want to know that our very existence isn’t just for naught? I mean, my brother is an actor/writer/director… He creates because he feels passionately, and he wants to bring meaning to life’s experiences. At least that is what I have always believed about what he does. My sister is a nurse. Her life is about assisting those in moments of great vulnerability. My cousin is a plumber. She works with her husband, and together, they strive to improve the quality of life for customers by helping fix pipes. Lots of times, they manage to ensure that the aroma of human waste isn’t the first thing people experience in the morning. These roles that my family members play are important in society. They make a difference. I can see it.

When I first started teaching, I was filled with all sorts of notions about “making a difference”. Maybe that is what everyone strives for in life… A sense of meaning… A sense of purpose… But, as with everything, I carried this idea of making a difference to a whole different level in my own mind. I wanted every student who passed through my door to develop a sense of self-worth, a love of learning, a respect for life and the miracles that it holds, a feeling of security and independence, and knowledge that they were the masters of their own destiny.

This is my seventh year of teaching. Tonight, I ran into a former student at the mall… A student from my first year… “Joe” transferred to me from another school toward the end of the school year. I only had him in class for about 4 months. However, his file was probably two inches thick. In special education, I suppose the student with the thickest file wins. Joe’s file was rife with reports about his horrible behavior problems. As I read through the file, my head was certainly filled with visions of terror… “Jumping from the tops of file cabinets…” “Cursing…” “Threatening to ‘dismember’ the student teacher”… Those are just the bits that I remember all these years later. But, amidst all of that, I saw that the kid had an I.Q. of 135. And, given my clientele that first year, I figured he would fit right in. The students I had my first year had horrible behavior problems. Many of them hailed from the projects and are now known drug dealers in our fair city. So, Joe didn’t really seem too different from any of the rest of my students, and I was questioning whether or not I was going to continue teaching after that first year anyway. I figured he could ride out the rest of the year with me and maybe I could find out why this bright kid, with unlimited potential was a) in special education, and b) saddled with a file that read like a rap sheet.

The remainder of that year was a wild ride. I was just holding on for dear life, doing the very best I could with a whole gaggle of very difficult students. And, for some reason, Joe never gave me a lick of trouble. He would find reasons to come back to my class in the afternoon. He was supposed to return to his homeroom class for Science and Social Studies, but usually he would meander in and we would talk. Honestly, I was grateful for his company. He was so smart and funny. One time, I even had an opportunity to show him his file and ask, “What are these reports doing in here, Joe? I don’t get it. You don’t act like this in my class.” He would just shrug and say, “I never felt like I needed to do that here. You get me.”

Joe moved before the end of the school year. Maybe that was part of the problem. He moved quite a bit during his elementary years. But, his mom had said that they were staying in Gautier, so I hoped he would get a chance to finish middle and high school with the same group of kids.

Tonight, I saw Joe at the mall. He is running around with the “gothic” kids. He looked basically the same, and I had a chance to speak to him.

“Joe Neely,” I called.

“How do you know me?” he responded. He looked at me, snapping his fingers trying to put a name to my face.

A friend joined him, who was a former student of our school and prompted, “She’s a teacher…”

After much struggling with his memory, I let him off the hook and told him who I was. I don’t honestly believe that he remembered me. He just said, “Teachers and me did not a good team make…”

I asked him how he was doing and he revealed that he has quit school. He is sixteen now. He never made it to high school. He quit in middle school. When I asked what happened he said, “I just wouldn’t do the work.” He says he plans to get his GED and go to college. I encouraged him to do just that.

Obviously, I didn’t really make the type of difference I had intended for Joe Neely. He didn’t even remember me. But, maybe Joe made a difference for me that year. I remember contract renewals came around at the end of my first year and I did not sign mine immediately. My co-teacher, and now friend, Kenna, kept telling me that I couldn’t quit. Still, I thought, “Like hell I can’t quit… This is too hard. It isn’t worth it.” Then, I thought about Joe and kids like him. I thought, maybe I can make a difference for those kids. At least he went to one school where someone “got him”.

I’m sad that I didn’t make a bigger difference for Joe. I want him to get a high school diploma. He is probably still the smartest kid I have taught. But, maybe kids like Joe are just thrown into the mix so I can make a difference for some of the others. I don’t really understand how God works it all out or keeps it all straight.

At the end of each school year, I write my students moving on to the middle school a letter. The letter is personal for each student, but usually I tell them the story of Albert Einstein… Here is a portion of a similar letter to another student: “Being a person of true character means meeting your disability with an attitude of gratitude. Being grateful for the gifts and abilities you have, rather than focusing on the areas you are lacking will help you build your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. Albert Einstein (one of the smartest men who ever lived) had a learning disability. His mother did not listen to the teachers who told her that he did not have the capacity to learn to read. Because Einstein's mother believed in him, he began to believe in himself. If I could give you any gift in life, it would be the ability to believe in yourself. I believe in you. You can be your own worst enemy or your own greatest ally; the choice is yours.”

Interestingly enough, Joe’s presence in my classroom led me to conclude that I have certain gifts and abilities to offer my students. Because my class was the one place he didn’t exhibit behavior problems, I thought that maybe I could offer something to others with significant challenges. I think I have gone on to offer something. I’m not sure it is as grand and wonderful a something as I had hoped it would be in my first years of teaching. But, I know for sure that the choice to continue trying and believing is mine alone.

And, who knows… Joe and I have crossed paths again. Maybe that diploma is on the horizon for him. (Wink.)

5 comments:

The Unknown said...

You cant expect to make a diffrenc in ever ones life. But i bet you ahve helped alot of people and dont knew it.

Christy said...

That's just it, D.J.... I do expect to make a difference. But, I think sometimes the difference that I make doesn't always look like I think it should. I'm working on understanding that sometimes I may not always know what is "right" in the big scheme of things.

Namaste',
Christy

The Unknown said...

And that is the thing see the big scheam is controled by God and he knows what he is doing wenther we can see it or not

Christy said...

Hmm, D.J. Are you the teacher or the student here? :-)

The Unknown said...

Student still learng i mena im just a teen satil lgot a lot more to learn