A Tale of Two Teachers (part 1)

She was a bitter, tired, frustrated, mean-spirited old woman who had long since lost any love of teaching that she had ever had, and was left hanging on to the only thing she knew to do to sustain herself, until she could finally, mercifully, retire. Looking back, I wonder what horrible life experiences she had that brought her to that place, back in the early 1970’s. What was her heartbreaking story? What could have hurt her so badly that this was the best she had to offer? But back then, I could have cared less. When I wasn’t busy fearing her or avoiding her, I just despised her.

She taught Algebra in the high school I attended. It was well known that she was the one algebra teacher that no one wanted to get. So when I got my schedule that year, I knew that I was in trouble. I was a decent student (though a little under-performing) and usually made A’s and B’s. I wasn’t used to failing. She was, in her own twisted way, determined to make sure that I didn’t fail, and thus sealed my fate. I failed her class miserably.

I have never had a person humiliate me in front of my peers like she did. She seemed to delight in having the ones of us who weren’t “getting it” work problems in front of the class on the chalk board. If we didn’t understand how to work the equation, she would leave us standing there, relentlessly chiding us for not seeing the obvious solution, until the bell finally rang and she would be forced to set us free. I already had very low self-confidence, and as skinny, overly tall, awkward teenager, I just froze it those situations, unable to focus on solving the problem for feeling ashamed and embarrassed by being singled out and put on display.

There were many other things that she did to make sure I felt like a total idiot, but I think that you can get the idea without me going into further detail. As a result of that experience, I found myself avoiding anything that had to do with math. I took the easiest math courses that I could get away with in college. I already knew that algebra was out of the question. I wasn’t going to set myself up to fail, and she had thoroughly convinced me that I would.

Many years later, I decided to pursue some additional schooling at the community college where I live. I was told I would have to take algebra. I started the class with a great deal of anxiety, but soon discovered that I understood the material and actually found it fairly easy. I passed with an “A”.

Here’s my thought in looking back at all this. A lot of who we are is determined by how we deal with what life brings us. We have all heard great stories of how a person has overcome terrible experiences and done great things in spite of them. Wouldn’t it be great if it always worked that way for everyone? It is here where I see the mercy of God at work.

My real concern is for the people who don’t take responsibility for how they treat others, not realizing--or maybe not caring--that in their words and actions is the power create or destroy. Even more frightening is when a person knows that they are cruel, and feels that because they are older, or because of some position of authority they have, they have a right to be that way and don’t have to take responsibility for it. No, we should always hold ourselves accountable for what we say and how we act.

Most of us would never set out to drive a knife into someone’s heart, but to many of us do so by our words alone. The Bible tells us,

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue . . .” Proverbs 18:21a (NKJ)