In The Long Run

It's funny that this post should follow so closely my last post about teaching. My job isn't my life, but I guess it's been a pretty big part of the day-to-day now for a while.

2 years ago I had a really squirrely student in my 5th period class (8th grade advanced ESL) named Eddie. I immediately liked the kid because he was squirrely, and because he seemed to genuinely care but lacked the tools to really put things together academically. He started off the year with mostly failing grades, but I gave him a hard time about it (along with a few other teachers) and he started to put the pieces together. His major hang up seemed to be reading and writing. He could read, but he lacked the interpretation skills to really make sense out of heavy duty topics or informational texts. He could write, but lacked organization and did not have confidence in his ideas.

Throughout the year we worked together to build some confidence in his writing and to put the pieces together with his reading. I also constantly stayed on his case for academics in other classes. 5th period was a small class (about 15 students), so we had a really close sense of camaraderie and team work in the class, and everyone ended up improving drastically. They were my favorite class to date (although they are now currently tied with last year's 2nd period... also 8th grade advanced ESL). The end of year project was to write a persuasive letter to someone you felt really needed to hear your opinion. Most people wrote their parents. Eddie wrote the President of the United States. I promised him that if he wrote the President, the President would write back.

Eddie came back to visit me a lot last year as a 9th grader. He complained about academics, his teachers being tough on him and feeling lost. I was really worried about him. About half way through the year, the President finally sent a letter to Dixon (which we had listed as the return address on Eddie's letter). I contacted his teacher at the High School and told him to tell Eddie that his response had arrived. That was the last I heard of the kid until today.

Eddie showed up this afternoon looking very put together. His hair was cut and his usual shlubby clothes were gone, replaced by an ironed button-up shirt, neat fitting jeans, and clean shoes. He told me he joined ROTC and that he's earning money to go to a National competition this spring. He also told me that he finished the school year with 7 A's and 2 B's and that he's enrolled in the International Baccalaureate program and is planning on graduating with his Associate's degree and going on to college so he can be a commissioned officer in the Army. He will be the first person in his family to do so. Eddie also thanked me for helping him make it through 8th grade, and thanked me for saving the President's letter for him.

I know that I've made a lot of mistakes as an educator and I know that I obviously can't claim full credit for turning Eddie's life around. I do know, however, that playing the small part that I did in that boy's life is worth most of the hassles that being a teacher entails. I also know that it gives my own life a meaning and a purpose.