Tuesday, February 23, 2010

More Stuff

Mary and I went out to Nations for dinner last night. I saw a young man who looked familiar, and who was trying not to look at me, yet he recognized me. After a couple of minutes, he came over, greeting me as Mr. Martin, and I knew he was a former student, but I couldn't quite place his name, and I had to ask. James (Jimmy) Thompson, twice a student of mine, one of several of those. Not that they were repeating my class, per-se, I was fortunate to teach a variety of class levels, from freshmen to seniors. Jimmy had me as a junior, and a senior. I remember him as a bright young man, full of life, but not quite sure how to express himself.
Six years may not seem like a long career as a teacher, I might have done more, but my last year broke me. In that time, I got to know about 900 kids, and it gets tougher to remember them all the time. I got to know them on a level their parents can only hope for. I got to read their thoughts, and ideas; their hopes, and their fears. Most were normal, therefore, goofy kids, who had stores of passion, but no direction for it. Some, as we talked about life, and literature, and writing, found a way to express themselves, not as teenagers, but as people. Getting to know them was my extreme pleasure.
There are, without a doubt, students who will stand out, forever, in my memories, because they were such unique individuals. One of those was a young man who once wore a dress to school, just to see how people would react. The schoo's administration tried to send him home, but the school's dress code didn't say anything about it, so he went to classes, all day, in a dress. Do NOT get any idea that this young man was insane, or disabled in any way. To the contrary, I found him to be a delightfully intelligent person, albeit possessing a rather warped sense of humor. Ted Velasquez, if you're out there, God bless you. I hope you haven't lost that sense of self-identity; in an environment where most kids said they didn't care, you really didn't. In some ways, I admired that.
One of my former students, who was the son of one of my classmates, played in this year's Super Bowl. I've followed Kyle DeVan's career, from a distance, as a Center at Oregon State, through the Skins and Jets, to finally land in Indy. Kyle started the Colt's last 12 games at Right Guard, including the playoffs, and Super Bowl. From what I saw, and Indy is on TV a lot, no one got to Peyton Manning over Kyle. He's a big guy, and a two-time State Wrestling Champion. He won the starting spot in Week 7, and has played right-next to one of his idols, Jeff Satuday,ever since. It's been a good year for that young man. May he have many, many more.
Another former student committed suicide, trying to break a steroid habit. Having been at the brink, for other drugs, I understand, and grieve at the depths of depression Effrain must have suffered before taking his own life. No teacher who ever cared about his/her students wants to read about one in an obituary.
My favorite all-time student was a young lady by the name of Kylie Roberts. Kylie transferred in to my freshman English class from another teacher at Coeur d' Alene High. She was, at the time, a wisp of a thing, small, thin, blonde, and just as cute as she could be. I told her that we were working on writing, and gave her my usual first writing assignment, to introduce herself to me. All of my other students had completed this assignment, and I gave her a week to write the essay.
On the due date, Kylie's mom showed up with the essay, as Kylie was not feeling well. We talked for a moment, and Mrs. Roberts told me why Kylie wasn't feeling well. It seems she had been up, all night, trying to write the essay, and not out of procrastination. Mrs. Roberts told me that sometime after 3 am, she heard Kylie go to bed. The essay was on the printer, and as she assembled the three pages, she started to read the essay, and wanted to thank me for making the assignment. In her essay, she talked about feeling "stupid" and "dumb," and gave the reader great insight to a world of low self-esteem. It was brilliant, poignent, and tear-wrenchingly emotional. In a single essay, Kylie found a powerful voice. The changes in her sense of worth were dazzling. In my year at CHS, I watched a frightened girl become a confident, and delightfully funny young woman. It was amazing.

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