He recently wrote a piece to celebrate World Teachers Day, it was beautiful. It began with:
"When lined up and ready to take the world, our best and brightest share one thing in common. As do those among us who find like just a little harder on their side of the room. From the filthy fish to those in the midst of homeless heartache. Rocket scientists and military heroes. Artists and giants of commerce. Barbers, clerks, laborers, lawyers, entrepreneurs. We are a varied lot...a diverse people, but we look to one common gift that ensures we are far more similar than different. Every industry, every pay grade...every one of us has received a shared gift.
He ended with:
We didn't all have parents. We didn't all have clergy. Some had no family and others no friends. But each and every one of us had people in our early lives that wanted nothing more than our best. And it was their daily hope that they gave us theirs. School teachers..."
Time moves forward, never ceasing. It marches through days, months and years. Reading Chris' piece brought an ache to my gut, announcing time passing, the sand of time slipping through the hour glass. I was no longer that teacher of many years, but retired. I am grateful for memories of a cherished career and in reflection I have the good and glorious successes, the profound sadness of hurting children, dismissive parents, a public school with a private school mentality and always the children, resilient and hopeful. My most disappointing personal days flourished in the presence of children; they were my daily gift in time.
My world was the early childhood years of 5 and 6 year olds, both kindergarten and 1st grade. After reading Chris' tribute to teachers I did a cruise through my mind and realized it was the most needy kids who came to mind, not the polite, sweet, engaging little ones, but the ones who took tremendous energy on my part. The ones with emotional problems, the ones who had impossible home lives, the brilliant ones who had difficulty fitting in with their chronological peers or kids with medical issues; it was always the kids who who were less or more than ordinary. A 5 year old does not wake in the morning with a conscious decision to have a crummy day, to cause trouble or to fail. I always kept that thought close to my heart. The sheer innocence of childhood refers to kids simplicity, their purity not yet spoiled by daily affairs of their growing world. They were not predisposed to forethought in how their day would unfold.
I loved the children.
Parker - he spent two years in my classroom a kid out of step with the times. He was phenomenally artistic in an educational world not yet caught up with teaching to that side of the brain. He now works successfully in film and animation.
Billy - Diagnosed with ADHD and his parents were instructed to put him on Ritalin, a central nervous system stimulant. It affects chemicals in the brain and nerves that contribute to hyperactivity and impulse control. Billy's father began giving him 1 Baby Aspirin a day telling him he was on a heavy calming drug. Billy's behavior changed immediately and the school got an earful.
Jens - a long time favorite (I know, I know... no favorites). At a very early age he was a voracious reader. He would hid behind classroom furniture reading, thinking he was invisible. "Jen's I love to say this to you... please put that wonderful book away and join us!" He appears to be a successful DJ in the northwest now.
Damon - was brilliant. He was so smart that he often could not relate to his peers in the usual 5yr. old to 5yr. old way. Instead he always came to school in character. I specifically remember his breakdance faze. He dressed all in black including gloves with cut off fingers. At the least provocation he would drop to the ground and show off his talents. His parents informed the school they would sue if he did not receive 'special ed' to honor his advanced brain. He received the extra tutoring!
Lillian - came to Vermont from Poland, escaping with her parents with just the clothes on their backs and valuables sewn into the lining. This was during martial law in the early 80s with thousands fleeing for their lives. Her family spoke no English. Having a non English speaking student was new for me.
Amanda - was a delight. A sweet, endearing child who could not play like the other children. She had brittle bones and a mere knick could cause injury. I carried her most places though she could walk at a turtles pace. It was not until the following year that she got a wheelchair.
Jason - ah Jason. He had a rough, rough home life. He wet his pants often and going home with wet pants meant a beating. Our principal installed a washer & dryer and we could wash & dry his clothes before putting him on the bus. Once the school nurse and I went to the house for a conference as they would not come to school; Dad met us at the door with a shot gun pointed at us... "Make it quick"!
Bobby - Stood ready by the door ("because I hate school") with a fistful of pointed scissors which he unloaded with swiftness, a strong hurl towards to my head! This began my year with Bobby. We taught one another and our classmates about friendship, individual differences and community. He and his family were VERY poor (only plastic on the windows of their house), but at the end of the year his mom presented me with an afghan she had made...unraveling multiple sweaters to have enough yarn. Talk about tears of joy (on both our parts).
Tripp - This little guy was a doll, a doll who happened to be tongue tied So kind hearted, so open to fun, yet the day he came to school and told me he and his sister watched their dad toss his mom into the apartment dumpster was just sadness for me.
Larissa - Her mom had died and her dad was trying his best, but this did not come naturally to him. At our first parent conference he said "she's your problem, I don't do school stuff". So that is exactly how our year went, all reading, school assignments and academics happened at school.
Geordie - hmmm, interesting dynamics there. HIs parents were wealthy and did not work. They were a bit unique in our small town community, they had a flair for city ways and taught Geordie accordingly. The day he brought papers and weed to class to teach his classmates how to roll a joint was a first.
Jon - I am very happy to say he appears to be a successful adult. He owns some luxury rental properties and is a party planner (not my kind of parties, but I am sure they are a hit in the big cities). Jon's dad produced porn films and his mom was a star. What do I do with that as a teacher? We definitely butt heads on appropriate activities for a 5 year old. The year was rough.
Schuyler - Oh how I loved this little guy. But it was months before I found the key. He had Prader-Willi syndrome, a genetic disorder. He could happily repeat one word over and over....dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog, dog,.... When someone spoke to him he might stare at you, smile, and "La La La La" as loud as his vocal cords would allow. One symptom of Prader-Willi is that the brain does not focus on 'full' and they will eat until sick. The good news was some months into the school year I figured out how to connect with him - SING. If I wanted Schuyler to do something or hear directions I would sing them. It became a trade mark of my classroom.
What makes your heart sing? For me it was one on one time with kids that needed a coach or support or a voice that cared. That sounds simple, but for each child mentioned there were parents who had so much more going on in their life than my young years in teaching could imagine I see that now, I did not when I was in my 20s and 30s. They were dealing with unemployment, death of a spouse, mental illness, disappointment, family demands, family disapproval or poverty. Their child was my ONE focus, their LIFE was usurped by multiple focus.
I truly believe those early years of teaching and loving children has led to my understanding our Parkinson's world. It is tricky and sad and fulfilling and always holds possibility. Having those early years guides my days now.