Bittersweet Days
Almost thirty years ago, I sat in a literature class staring at the first "F" I had ever seen in a literature class. My father had received orders to Germany and I wanted so much to graduate from Thomasville High School. The only way to do that was to accelerate my studies which meant taking three English classes in one semester.
The counselors were glad to enroll me in two of the classes but were reluctant to enroll me in a satire class--they felt it was beyond my capabilities. I enrolled and shortly found out that it was certainly was beyond my current capabilities. I stared at that big, fancy cursive "F" that I had worked so hard for. I thought that I would just have to try a little harder. My next assignment brought another big, fancy cursive "F."
To put this in perspective, I had known I wanted to go to college since I was a small child. I had studied and prepared to go. I had already been accepted into to two pretty good universities and had scholarship offers, but I was discovering that there was this entire group of students who were in these classes that were above my own--classes and levels that I had no knowledge of. It was a devastating reality.
Upon receiving the second "F", I went to this teacher and explained that I had to pass this class and that I was willing to do whatever was needed. She worked with me and I managed to get out of the class with a "C." I learned more in that class about writing and analyzing written works than any literature class I had or have since taken. I also learned that I was capable of learning this materiel, and should have been learning it all along.
I am sure that experience shaped much my thinking about certain issues today. Yesterday I introduced that my child to that teacher. And just as it was almost thirty years ago, that teacher will still be teaching primarily white children those higher level skills. What a bittersweet day--joy for my child and tears for how far my community has come.
posted by YouthPlay Staff @ 2:07 PM
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