My First Graduate

I promised you all an amazing story, and I do not want to fail you. Thus I will wait to pontificate about Harry Potter 7 (plus this way I won't spoil it for those still in the midst), and instead I will tell you the story that brought my heart back to teaching this week. (For the purpose of anonymity I will change the name of my student to Brad. Some of you may have heard pieces of this story before with the students' real name, but I feel like it's important to protect his story.)

Brad was my student last year in both my Sophomore and Junior classes. He had previously failed Sophomore English and was currently a Junior. In the first weeks, Brad and I had a bit of a battle in trying to gain footing with each other. Brad liked to speak his mind, which I love, but I didn't want it to be at the sacrifice of order or respect in my classroom. We found common ground quickly and developed a safe way for him to share ideas with his classmates.

In the first quarter I give my Sophomores the assignment of writing a narrative about a personal loss. Brad wrote me a nine page paper about how he lost his brother to abuse and then to arrest. Brad's story was very moving and I could hear his voice clearly in his writing, but it lacked in some of the other requirements of the paper. So I marked him down with a long note explaining that I appreciated his transparency. When he received his paper back he was visibly upset. But I sat down and explained to him my reasoning and we worked through the essay so he could revise it for a better grade. It was a major triumph for Brad and me.

One of the unique qualities about Brad is that he hated flies, I mean hated them. He couldn't stand being in their presence. Being out in Vail, we had many flies in our classroom, and Brad couldn't help but swat them down and kill them. He wouldn't just do this if they were in his vicinity, he would do it if they were even on his radar. The first time I was observed and this took place, I tried to "take control" of the situation and yelled for Brad to stop. He was so disheartened that I had yelled at him, he wouldn't speak the rest of class. It was at this point I realized that I had to be the teacher I needed to be no matter how it looked to the outside observer. I apologized to Brad, and we agreed to communicate more clearly our expectations of each other.

The next time I was observed I was specifically praised for how I interacted with Brad. Even though unorthodox my assistant principal saw my interactions with Brad as a great breakthrough for this student. I was so uplifted by the conversation and reassured in believing that I was going to have a hand in helping Brad succeed. Just five hours later, Brad made an extremely poor decision that resulted in his long term suspension from my school. I was broken hearted. I cried and couldn't help but think that I had lost this battle. When I talked with Brad he seemed to believe this was the end of his educational experience, and I made great attempts to find a way for him to continue. My personal attempts failed, and I heard nothing from Brad for the next 7 months.

Tuesday afternoon my assistant principal paged me over the loud speaker. I called him and he intimated that there was a visitor heading my way. As soon as Brad opened the door, face glowing, smile spread across his face, I knew he was proud to share something with me. We hugged and when we pulled apart he slowly opened a black folder that was in his right hand. Inside was a diploma from an alternative school! Not only had Brad finished his high school education but he had finished it a year early! Tears welled in his eyes and mine as he told me that he graduated on June 9th, the first person in his family to walk across a stage and receive a diploma. He grinned as he told me how he danced in his cap and gown as he crossed the stage. His pride beamed from every corner of his being as he sought my reassurance that he had done well. All I could muster was "I'm SO proud of you" and it tumbled out of my mouth about every minute.

He told me of his plans to join the Navy, of his ability to conquer his debilitating addiction in order to enlist. He asked if I'd write him a recommendation, waiting with bated breath for my answer. "Of course!" I exclaimed! There is no greater honor than to write that letter! Then we both teared again as it dawned on me that Brad is my first ever graduate! This year would have been the first for my students to walk across a stage, but Brad got to do it first! He gave me a copy of his diploma, and I now proudly display it on my wall. What a cool distinction for me and for him!

I spent twenty minutes with Brad, but it was a life altering moment. As he left, I told him to remember, even when his drill sergeants are yelling in his face, that I'm proud of him and nothing will ever change that. Nothing will. He rose from difficult circumstances and made something great of his life, and I played a small role in that triumph. For that I am eternally grateful. To bear witness of a young life finding meaning in this world makes my job amazing. I feel privileged to work with kids like Brad, to be a voice reminding them of their worth. What a blessing! I have no more words to describe my emotions right now except to say that I have an awesome job, and God has given me these students to change my life. I am blessed.