Yesterday got me thinkin' about some of my favorite teaching experiences. I wish I would have kept a journal over the years because I know many of the things that occurred are no longer occasions that I remember. But the memories that I do have, I savor.
One special memory that I have is rather bitter sweet. It happened at Pascogoula High School where I taught English. All of my life I had either attended or taught in a private school. It wasn't until 2004 that I interviewed and was accepted to teach in a public school. I didn't know if I could do it...teach in a public school. But when all is said and done, I think It was a wonderful fit for me . It just felt like God had called me to serve Him at PHS.
Maybe you've never heard of Pascagoula. Or maybe you heard about it because of Ray Steven's song. The Mississippi Squirrel Revival sort of put Pascagoula on the map and elevated it to cult status. Here's the song in case you want to listen:
Pascagoula is a wonderful Southern town located on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. It is a town of extremes. It has it's beautiful mansions that dot the coastline, but it is also home to the poorest of the poor. Another claim to fame is that it is home to Senator Trent Lott. He attended Pascagoula High School and would often visit and give a talk to the students whenever he was in town.
I taught a variety of students at PHS, but, as time passed, it was obvious that I was the teacher that they could rely on to reach out to those students that were floundering. Students that had failed the State test for English over and over and over again...those were the students I was assigned. And you know what? I LOVED that challenge. Teaching them to write a proper essay, getting them to read and understand Shakespeare, just getting them to stay awake long enough to read ANYTHING...well, let's just say it was never boring!
I had a student that hated me. Absolutely HATED me. Until one night he was out with his friends and a car pulled up to his. Out of nowhere, a gun was fired. There was my student, suddenly holding a dying friend in his lap. I was the teacher he cried with. No 17 year old should have to experience what he went through.
I can't tell you how many of my students were already parents. Often when one or two would put their head down in class, another student would whisper to me that it was because they had been up all night with a sick baby.
One student I'll never forget was "Precious". Let's just say that her personality did not match her name. She was tough with a capital "T". Half the time she missed class, and the other half she spent ignoring me. Often she would raise her hand just so she could entertain the class with inappropriate stories about the police coming to her house or her father being taken to jail. One time during the winter I was out for four days in a row due to bronchitis. It was my first day back and Precious raised her hand as soon as I got the class settled down. I really wasn't ready to hear one of her distracting stories, but I let her speak.
"Where was you, Miss S? I heard you was sick and me and my daddy been prayin' for you."
I lost track of Precious after that year. And then one day she appeared at my door at the end of the school day. We sat and talked and caught up. Then she told me she was pregnant. She was excited about the baby and tried her best to convince me that life was never better.
I walked her to my classroom door and watched her walk down the empty hallway. I stopped her about halfway.
"Precious?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Precious, do you remember when I was sick and you told me you and your daddy prayed for me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I just want you to know that now it's my turn to pray for you, ok?"
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
And I watched her turn the corner and walk out of sight. I never saw Precious again. Her baby is probably in Kindergarten by now.
Tonight I will say a prayer for Precious and thank Him again for the wonderful students He allowed to cross my path at Pascagoula High School.
One special memory that I have is rather bitter sweet. It happened at Pascogoula High School where I taught English. All of my life I had either attended or taught in a private school. It wasn't until 2004 that I interviewed and was accepted to teach in a public school. I didn't know if I could do it...teach in a public school. But when all is said and done, I think It was a wonderful fit for me . It just felt like God had called me to serve Him at PHS.
Maybe you've never heard of Pascagoula. Or maybe you heard about it because of Ray Steven's song. The Mississippi Squirrel Revival sort of put Pascagoula on the map and elevated it to cult status. Here's the song in case you want to listen:
Pascagoula is a wonderful Southern town located on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. It is a town of extremes. It has it's beautiful mansions that dot the coastline, but it is also home to the poorest of the poor. Another claim to fame is that it is home to Senator Trent Lott. He attended Pascagoula High School and would often visit and give a talk to the students whenever he was in town.
I taught a variety of students at PHS, but, as time passed, it was obvious that I was the teacher that they could rely on to reach out to those students that were floundering. Students that had failed the State test for English over and over and over again...those were the students I was assigned. And you know what? I LOVED that challenge. Teaching them to write a proper essay, getting them to read and understand Shakespeare, just getting them to stay awake long enough to read ANYTHING...well, let's just say it was never boring!
I had a student that hated me. Absolutely HATED me. Until one night he was out with his friends and a car pulled up to his. Out of nowhere, a gun was fired. There was my student, suddenly holding a dying friend in his lap. I was the teacher he cried with. No 17 year old should have to experience what he went through.
I can't tell you how many of my students were already parents. Often when one or two would put their head down in class, another student would whisper to me that it was because they had been up all night with a sick baby.
One student I'll never forget was "Precious". Let's just say that her personality did not match her name. She was tough with a capital "T". Half the time she missed class, and the other half she spent ignoring me. Often she would raise her hand just so she could entertain the class with inappropriate stories about the police coming to her house or her father being taken to jail. One time during the winter I was out for four days in a row due to bronchitis. It was my first day back and Precious raised her hand as soon as I got the class settled down. I really wasn't ready to hear one of her distracting stories, but I let her speak.
"Where was you, Miss S? I heard you was sick and me and my daddy been prayin' for you."
I lost track of Precious after that year. And then one day she appeared at my door at the end of the school day. We sat and talked and caught up. Then she told me she was pregnant. She was excited about the baby and tried her best to convince me that life was never better.
I walked her to my classroom door and watched her walk down the empty hallway. I stopped her about halfway.
"Precious?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Precious, do you remember when I was sick and you told me you and your daddy prayed for me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I just want you to know that now it's my turn to pray for you, ok?"
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
And I watched her turn the corner and walk out of sight. I never saw Precious again. Her baby is probably in Kindergarten by now.
Tonight I will say a prayer for Precious and thank Him again for the wonderful students He allowed to cross my path at Pascagoula High School.
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