The shriek broke the silence in the classroom, pinching a nerve in my spine. My shoulders tensed, forcing my head to turn toward the direction in which the sound originated. A woman stood in the doorway and repeated her sounds. The words were not clear but she was upset. After a few more sounds, my brain processed that she was a parent of one of my students.
He gathered his papers and sealed them in his backpack. Slowly walking toward the door, his body expressed his emotions. His shoulders hunched and his head was down. The shuffle of the walk stated his embarrassment loudly. Other students watched with equal embarrassment.
My eyes and head tracked his trail until he could no longer be seen from my seat. I spun in my chair, and saw the pain in the eyes of my students. I immediately scooted up and leaned forward. With as much emphasis as possible I prepared to speak, making one final check in the hallway to make sure my voice would not be overheard.
“I hope (pause) when you have children that you always focus on them and never on yourself.”
There was a short pause until a student said, “That’s deep.”
This broke my heart and so I pulled myself up from the chair and headed to the hallway. Just as I reached the threshold, the emotion forced its way up to my face and started to drip out my red eyes. I didn’t want the team to know that tears were rolling down my cheeks so I hurried to the faculty bathroom. Up one flight of stairs and no one would be the wiser.
Looking in the mirror, I splashed more and more water in hopes of diluting the tears. My heart was racing and the stream continued. The cold spray tightened my skin until the river stopped. A few practice smiles in the mirror reassured me that my false facade would hide the true emotions. I breathed a deep sigh, dried my eyes and hands, and returned to the classroom.
Never, ever embarrass a child in front of his teacher, friends and peers. Never.
Posted by LPH at March 25, 2004 08:47 PM | TrackBack