Snagglepuss
August 1, 2008 - 01:11 PM
QUOTE (brillke @ August 1, 2008 - 08:35 AM)
I actually saw Maya Angelou speak many years ago at McKendree college. Amazing women.
Only reason Im even replying to you,well,,its not really to only you but you happened to tell the pencil story.
My sister collected any and every pen and pencil she found and put them in a can on her desk. When a student forgot a writing instrument,of course they could have one...for a fee. Some kids whipped out wads of cash that were worth more then she,a underpaid teacher,made in a week. Nope,no cash tyvm. They had to write in a journal she kept in her desk. It had to be a certain length,Im not sure what that length was,and it had to be something personal.
Some kids were like "this is stupid" and filled their page with garbage. Most kids took it seriously and filled the page,even going over the mandatory length,with their hopes and dreams,their fears,their secrets,their hate and their loves. Youd be amazed at the kids who "forgot" their pencils several times a week. There was a waiting list for that journal!
To keep anyone from reading other kids stuff,it was for her eyes only and she never read it without permission,each kid was given a page like you have in a binder. Ya know the kind,clear and you can put papers in or out of it. Im not sure what they are called. This big black binder was huge after her 5 years at the school she taught at at the time. Im not sure but I wouldnt be surprised if she had to remove pages as kids graduated to make room.
Did the book help? I think it did. One student,the only students work that I read and she did ask permission for me to read first,was struggling and wrote page after page of hate filled,suicidal rants complete with artwork of his death. He had lost both his parents as a child in grade school and was living with a grandmother who was in the hospital on and off his Jr.year and he was afraid he would be left alone again. He had an aunt that taught at the school but I guess they were not close because she,my sister, didnt know they were related until years later so I assume the poor kid felt all alone.
He started staying after school so he could hang around my sister,she was the chess club coach(can you say nerd!)and was a sponsor for the Sr. class so her days were very long. He started doing better in school,started taking care of himself and even got a girlfriend.
The next year,his Sr. year,his grandmother passed away. He got even closer to my sister. In fact,he showed up at her front door,twice. You can imagine how that freaked her out! Oh,we live in a tiny town and the school was in a neighboring town only 4 miles away,not like she was hard to find. Once she let him know about boundaries,he didnt do that again. She did tell the guidance counselor about this and while he was in his foster home,no he did not go live with his aunt for some reason,she set up counseling for him.
At graduation,the boy hugged my sister and told her thanks to her he was alive. She was like aw ty but you deserve all the credit. He very calmly said "No,you dont understand. I was going to kill myself once my grandma died. " Well,as you can imagine,my sister was floored! After a few are you serious,he explained that being able to express himself freely in that journal and slowly beginning to trust my sister,he decided he didnt want to check out after all.
2 years later,I was in WalMart with my sister and we hear "Ms.G!",I swear we hear that every time we go somewhere,even out of state,and she turns and its him. He comes running up and gets her in a bear hug and they are in the electronics dept. crying like babies and I of course am like "WTF." They talk while I keep busy and she later tells me he is now working his way through college and doing very well. She said that is what makes her go to work everyday.
Does it always have a happy ending? No.
One of her chess kids was brilliant. In fact,the school created the chess team for him. He and his mother moved to the area and once they found out there was no chess team,they went to the school board and asked for one. Fast forward a few weeks later and there is a chess team. The kid had a full-ride scholarship to some very nice college(I dont remember the name) and had to stay active to keep his scholarship.
The boys mom used a cane to walk and anytime her son did something to displease her,she hit him with it. It didnt matter where they were,he was hit and it happened often. She pushed him very hard and Im sure she thought she was doing what was best for him but sadly,it turned tragic.
The boy didnt show up for school one day and the truant officer went to his home. No answer. The next day,no boy and another visit. Still no answer. On the third day,the cop went in the house. Skipping over the gruesome stuff,she had hit the boy once too often I guess and the mom was dead in the home. He had beat her with the cane.
It took a few hours but he was found hiding in a local barn. I dont know how he was found so fast but I assume friends let the police know places he hung out. He was arrested and in jail awaiting trail. He refused any visitor but my sister. He actually asked to see her. Before she was able to go visit,he took his own life in his cell. He was 16.
I swear this is true and I can send the link to the St.Louis Post Dispatch that carried the sad,tragic story if anyone thinks Im being dramatic.
So,the point Im trying to make is with the pencil thing,yes,saying no,you cannot have one you should be responsible for yourself isnt a bad thing(teaching a child to be strong and independent is never a bad thing) but what works for one doesnt always work for the other. A teacher isnt just there to teach a kid,they become a surrogate parent to some. Teachers are also counselor,shrinks,advisers,mentors,referees,life coaches,etc... and there is no way they are paid enough for their services or given the thanks from society that they deserve.
Im sorry everyone,all this teacher talk really got my old noggin going and I over shared.
Great Story Brillke!
I am eternally grateful for the wonderful teachers who took extra time from their day and their busy lives to help me.
I wrote of this in another post, but growing up we were desperately poor.... Some of my teachers would send me home with bags of clothes from their children! I was embarrassed... but not as embarrassed as not having clean clothes to wear....
Teachers are underpaid and under appreciated!
