Opportunity

I’m driving in the Monday morning stop-and-go traffic and thinking through my day and week…and life. This is gonna be fun substituting for Mr. Jones’ eighth grade science class this week. Every now and again I volunteer to substitute because it keeps me closely connected to the kids; plus it reminds me of my old teaching days. It’s quite different from my administration duties of being the school’s principal. I treasure being the principal, too. I’ve made education my home by pouring my heart and soul into these kids and this school. And everyday it makes me feel alive. I’ve seen it all. I’ve hired and fired teachers, taught students, changed curricula, met with parents, and even ordered a lockdown. I have attended countless sporting events, helped make lunches, and sheltered and protected kids when necessary. I’m a 64 year old woman I but still have a fire burning in me. One day I want to make an even bigger difference in the lives of others. I want to set into motion sweeping policy changes that will improve not only the entire education system but the quality of life for kids everywhere.

I tap the brakes quickly to avoid running into the bright red taillights that suddenly shine at me. I glance down on the empty passenger seat after the sudden stop. That pile of papers has been right by my side for over a month. Stacked neatly are the campaign reports for the supervisor of elections. Sticking out the top of the stack I see a page entitled “County School Superintendent Election — Declaration and Intent to Run.” The words almost jump off the page and scream at me. Suddenly, it gets warm and uncomfortable in the car. My pulse thumps a few beats faster.

My mind races. Everything is prepared. All of the qualifications are met. I have a river of support. The opportunity is right here in front of me. Why can’t I go for it? What’s wrong with me?

The inner voices start firing away.

With advanced degrees in education and administration, decades of experience as a teacher and principal, and a deep understanding of local politics, I still have a problem taking the leap. What happens if I lose the election? What if I don’t like the job? What if I fail to implement the changes I know need to be made in this school district? I was made for this job but the other guy has so much experience and he’s ten years younger. Am I really capable of being the Superintendent of the entire school district? Maybe I should just finish out my career as a principal. I better decide fast. The deadline is this Friday at 5:00 pm.

I arrive at the school and hurry into the eighth grade science classroom.

The bell rings out signaling the start of class. “Okay… ladies and gentlemen, take your seats! For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Ms. Jasper.” The students giggle at my failure to recognize my own celebrity-like status. “Yes that’s right, your principal. So if you act up, you’ll be sent to my office!” I say with a whimsical smirk as more chuckles can be heard.

“I know you are all disappointed that Mr. Jones is out; but you’ll be delighted to know that I volunteered to teach you kiddos science in his absence. I’ll be your teacher every day this week and remember that I’ll also be here after school from 3:00 to 5:00 everyday for the study group. Before I forget, I have an assignment due Thursday that you’re just gonna love.”

As the chatter and commotion begins to die down, I scan the room from left to right. To the far left is the long black counter-top that runs the full length of the wall. It’s the obvious cue for any visitor to know they are in the middle school science classroom. With a periodic table poster as a colorful backdrop, the black laminate counter is crowded with two sinks, an array of beakers and test tubes, neatly arranged measuring equipment, a couple boxes of Bunsen burners, and a Van de Graaff electricity machine that buzzes and makes kids’ hair stand on end.

Sitting in the row of desks to my left and running parallel to the science counter-top, Josh is slouched in his desk chair reluctantly removing his headphones. As I survey, many of the students are still shuffling papers, books, and electronics and getting ready for their Monday science class. Stacey is clicking her freshly painted fingernails on her desktop while twirling her hair and chewing fruity bubble gum. Brooke is wiping her glasses with a soft cloth while otherwise attentively watching me and awaiting instruction.

I glance at Miles in the row to my far right. He’s sitting quietly in his wheelchair with a distant gaze written across his face. I keep a special watch on Miles as do all the other teachers. We’re all silently cheering for him. He seems to be hanging in there given his circumstances. Most days he isolates himself from the other kids. It’s obvious he’s working through things. He remains silent while other kids are chitchatting about baseball games, dances, and their plans for spring break. Miles lost his ability to walk two years ago when he was in a car crash that also took his father’s life. My heart goes out to each and every one of the students but it sinks when I think of Miles.

“Okay… let’s get started. And about that fun assignment! I want you to do a research project to describe where each item on Friday’s lunch menu comes from. Take this down. Friday’s lunch will consist of cheeseburgers, apple slices, macaroni and cheese, and carrots. The ingredients to the cheeseburger are ground beef, cheddar cheese, whole wheat buns, tomato, and lettuce.

“So put on your research hats and get to it! I want you all to turn in your papers on Thursday, and then on Friday, the student with the best response will read it aloud to the class. I want a printed copy on my desk Thursday and an emailed copy sent to me Thursday by the end of the day.”

I pause as a build-up to my next point, “And… the winner gets a gold star!” I hold up the palm-sized gold sparkling star for all to see.

Ahh, the coveted gold star. There are a limited number of gold stars given out over the school year. If a student collects three of them, he or she can skip the final exam. Skipping a final exam gives one the ultimate bragging rights and is enough for any of the students to go way above and beyond to obtain it.

I flash a half smile as I hear the kids whispering, challenging each other to see who can craft the best response and become the victor. I pause before giving any further instruction to allow the moment of thrill and competition to permeate the room. Eric is confident in his gold star pursuit. He says tauntingly, “I already know that all the vegetables in the cafeteria come here locally from Livingston Farms.”

Thursday arrives. The heated competition has been brewing all week since the first mention of the gold star. The kids have been inquisitively discussing the topic with each other over the past few days without giving away their secret investigations. They file in the classroom and plunk their research papers down on my desk. And I receive a stream of emails throughout the day with each message having a masterpiece of research as an attachment.

Sitting at home late in the evening I dedicate some time to find my gold star victor. I sift through the papers. Wow! I can tell the kids really put a lot of work into this assignment.

I’m feeling so proud of the kids and their effort as I read through their responses. Some students actually visited the local farms, they called the food distribution companies, interviewed the cafeteria staff, and did Internet research. After studying each response I select Brooke as the gold star winner. Brooke really put a lot of thought and energy into it. She even broke down the ingredients of the whole wheat buns and detailed the source of each one. Brooke’s paper was expertly written and thorough. It was clear that all the kids poured their hearts into their work; all except one.

I pick up the paper that belongs to Miles and just stare at it. The entire sheet of paper is completely blank except for one single word which doesn’t make any sense to me. My mood shifts as I feel a twinge of pain in my heart. Miles has been able to maintain acceptable grades despite all of the challenges he has been through. But after looking at this paper which shows no signs of thought or effort I suspect may be on the verge of giving up and falling into a downward spiral.

What should I do about this? Should I give him a failing grade? Should I talk to his mother? Should I call him out in front of the class? Should I encourage him and let him make up the assignment later?

I feel utterly conflicted because on one hand, I can’t allow a student to brazenly skip an assignment but on the other hand his situation is tenuous. I do not want to push him where he doesn’t need to be pushed. I toss and turn for an entire sleepless night, still undecided about how I will handle the situation when I enter that classroom.

It’s Friday. The bell rings and the students quickly settle in their desks eagerly awaiting the gold star award. My collected appearance gives no hint to the storm that’s raging inside me. The students are all quiet with their eyes glued to me. At that moment, I let my intuition take the driver’s seat. As I address the class, these words come out:

“Ok everyone! Before I announce the winner, I need to have clarification on one of the responses I received…. Miles, would you please explain your response?” After the words left my lips, I held my breath, prayed, and with a lump in my throat, I directed my attention to Miles.

Miles, without expression, gave one of his wheels a spin positioning his wheelchair so that he was fully facing the class. Without a stammer or stutter, he defends his submission:

“The assignment was to explain where the lunch items come from and I answered with one single word ‘Opportunity’. The fruit, vegetables, grain, and livestock all come from nature. For example, the apple tree, which produced the apple that gave us the apple slices, would not be there if the conditions were not right first. It needed the soil, seed, the farmer, rainwater and sunshine. Since all of these were present, it had the opportunity to grow and blossom. And that is why I believe all of the lunch items come from opportunity.”

The room is completely silent with all eyes on Miles. Scratching his head, he continues. “But maybe it took more than just opportunity. Maybe the apple tree is also successful because it knows exactly what it is, never doubts itself, and is not afraid to grow as much as it possibly can.” Miles continues as his eyes start to twinkle. “The apple tree never listens to anyone who says it can’t. It never compares itself to other apple trees. I think the apple tree has extraordinary will. It willfully uses any opportunity to grow and to serve itself and the world the best way it possibly can — by producing apples.”

As if wanting to share a piece of his soul, Miles says, “You know, Ms. Jasper, I think the same is true for each of us. If we fully embrace what we are and don’t try to be something else and we seize the opportunity — no matter what our situation is — we can grow and blossom, too.”

His words resonate in me as if spoken by an angel. I try to hold myself together as I grin at Miles. In over forty years in education, I have never been caught off guard quite like this. My eyes well up with tears. A silence falls over the classroom as I walk over to Miles and hand him the gold star.

Miles lights up. He grins with pride. Everyone can sense that in some small way, he has found a thread of power that will take him much farther than legs ever could.

As if on cue, every student stands up and begins to cheer for Miles. I instantly sense the magnitude of what is transpiring. Miles has just changed all of us. Seeing the kids cheer for one of their fellow classmates, watching Miles find the light for himself, and at the same time enlightening us, produces an energy that makes me want to go out and conquer the world without fear or self doubt.

Regaining my composure, I walk to the front of the classroom and announce: “Miles, that was a thoughtful and a quite amazing answer to the assignment. Congratulations on the gold star!”

“And one more thing, ladies and gentlemen, I won’t be able to hold the study group after school today. I have something very important I have to do.”