Saturday, January 30, 2010

Little victories matter.

 

It's hard to see this picture, but it is a picture of a retired teacher and a former student. The student is a guy who most certainly rides a Harley - tattoos up and down his arms, long hair - in short, he's a caricature of a biker. We were having drinks last night (emphasis on the plural) and debriefing a particularly trying week. We were talking about all of the bullshit we put up with at school and how important it is to hang on to little victories.

As we were sitting there, Mr. Zero spots Harry (Donna has another story about how the guy came to be standing at the table, but who believes Donna, anyway?) He says, "Mr. Egan!?!" ...and gives Harry a hearty handshake. "What happened to your Fu-Manchu mustache?" (So, as Donna pointed out, obviously the guy is in his 40s if he remembers THAT cheesy thing!) "When I was in 7th grade, you called everyone down to the weight room to watch me bench press 205 pounds! That was the coolest thing that happened to me in junior high!" He had a smile from ear to ear... and so did Harry. Harry said, more than once last night, "we just have to touch one kid at a time." I know he's right, but when I'm fighting with the 200 kids in between each one I touch... it's exhausting!

Harry is definitely a 90.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

The shining moment, the student still remembered, was bench-pressing 205 lbs. in 7th grade. Glory Days!!!

Me. said...

I totally agree! I don't think there are many things I remember about 7th grade (except Tocher scaring the crap out of me when he was mad at Paul Ireland and slammed him against a locker... I knew I wasn't at Stinkin' Lincoln anymore!) The best part about the story is that this grown man still has that positive experience etched in his memory. What a gift you gave him, Harry!

Anonymous said...

Susan you never cease to amaze me.I will tell you that you deal with tougher students in tougher situation ( sometimes) than I had to, but every one of those little victories makes a difference to society. And down the road when some biker or another member of our society says that you made a difference in their life, you will consider most worth while.