So I think I was about 4 when I started reading. I loved to read. It took me to places where I didn't have to hurt. Where I was happy. I didn't have much happiness when I was a child. My family like many others was highly dysfunctional. Poor boundaries and lots of hurting going on. I have very few good memories of when I was a child.
I wonder why we can't always recall the memories good and bad but I tend to think that it may be a good thing .. if we remembered everything then we may not be able to move forward. Of course you can get stuck .. stuck in a place that isn't happy or healthy. Going to school was great for me. I seemed to thrive there. It wasn't hard. I loved learning and feeling like I was important. I didn't get much of that when I was a kid.
At school though I was teacher's pet. I didn't care what the other kids thought because I so craved an adult telling me I was doing a good job, that I was smart or whatever. I had some teachers in Elementary school that made an impact on me. One was my 2nd grade teacher. Her name was Mrs. Solomon. She was stern but caring. At one point I thought I might want to be a teacher, and it was because of her. She made school fun. Her daughter and I were good friends and enjoyed each other a lot.
While I have other memories of not so good things this is one that is imprinted on my mind. You see I truly believe that you can make a difference. She did. She was a teacher I still hope to find and reconnect with someday. There are times I dreamed she would find me and take me to her house and raise me. So I wouldn't have to hurt anymore. This was especially true after my birthday that her daughter Karen came to.
My father was not a nice man when he drank. I have said that before. But he was not always nice when he wasn't drinking either. Anyway at this party, he came home and I think he had been drinking but I can't be sure, as life as blurred some of the details. When he came home and realized that my friend was there, and she was not white, let's just say I truly understood shame at that point. He was horrible. I was sick to my stomach from the things he said. I didn't know if I could ever go back to school after that.
Good thing my teacher didn't hold what he said against me. When I look back I think the things he said helped me to realize that the color of someone's skin has very little to do with who they are. It also taught me that there are people who care but do not always know how to help. A few days after this I think is the first time I tried to run away. Of course at that age where do you run? Eventually I came home and back to the life I felt I would never leave.
So teachers, just know that you do have a big impact for good on a child. You can help a child by the way you treat or don't treat them. For that matter, anyone out there can make a difference. Sometimes its a simple smile, or a shrug. Or it may be that you should do more. But whatever you do .. the biggest thing is to let some one know you CARE.
In teaching you cannot see the fruit of a day's work. It is invisible and remains so, maybe for twenty years. ~Jacques Barzun
What a teacher writes on the blackboard of life can never be erased. ~Author Unknown
A truly special teacher is very wise, and sees tomorrow in every child's eyes. ~Author Unknown
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