Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Going back to school

Watching the students go back to school causes me to remember those days in my own life. Some of the memories are good and … some are not so good. The beginning of the school year, be it elementary, Junior or Senior High school or college, was always filled with excitement, anticipation, great goals, tremendous desires and always a resolve that this year was going to be different. But, then the classes began, the teacher’s expectations where laid upon us, the assignments were passed out, the social interactions within the classroom became complicated, and the year simply moved into the “same-old-same-old” stuff.

There are a few outstanding memories. The best year ever was the sixth grade. Dr. Malanggo was the teacher (I’m sure that I am not spelling his name correctly – after all that was over 56 years ago). He motivated us like no other teacher that I had ever had before. Come Christmas break we had completed all of the necessary work for sixth grade, if you can believe it. Thinking back I’m not really sure how we did it and I’m sure that he ever informed us of his goal, but the rest of the year was fantastic because we, the students, determined what we were going to discover during the remaining months of the school year. It was marvelous and what sheer joy of experiences and discovery.

Another memory includes my homeroom teacher in Senior High School, Uncle Jimmy Hudson. Once you met this unusual, loving, caring gentleman your life was going to change … guaranteed. If anyone ever was meant to be a teacher and to be involved in helping to shape the minds, spirit and future of young people it was Uncle Jimmy. I never had him for any classes, but homeroom was a class in itself. He took the time to teach us about life and how to live it through the stories he would tell, jokes shared, and quotes for the day upon the board. It was just 15 minutes at the beginning of each day, but had a profound impact upon us all.

Then there was the American History professor in the second year of college. He taught American History II from two perspectives – from the textbook (required reading) and journals that he and his father, grandfather and great grandfather kept while they were in service to the president and other members of congress. He would be lecturing away and then stop, pause and state, “Well, that is what the history books tell us, but here is what was written in the journals.” It was a personal and often conflicting interpretation of American History … rich in texture and insightful in observations … hard to forget those kinds of experiences.

The rest of my college learning experience is kind of jammed together because shortly after my second year of college Margaret and I were married … and then Tim came … and then Tracy … and trying to adjust to married life with a family while “trying” my hand at serving a church 50 miles due west of Atlanta was a juggling act at best. There was times that I felt like the circus guy who tries to keep all the plates spinning on those little thin sticks … mine just kept falling off and breaking. It was the best of times … it was the worst of times … hard to concentrate with so much demanding for your attention.

I do remember on seminary professor, Dr. Ted Runyon. It was during one of his oral final exams – he would sit at his desk and simply enter into a dialogue with you about the course subject and what you learned. He had his set questions, but they kind of found their way into the conversation. At some point I remember him shutting his book, leaning across the desk, looking me directly in the eyes and state, “You know, Martin, if you ever got serious about your education you would be dangerous!”

Looking back it wasn’t really that hard. God never gives you more than you can handle. Oh, it might stretch you. It might seem rather demanding. It might require more from you than you think that you can give. And, yet, we all survive, making the necessary adjustments and come out the other end the victor.

And so, as the students and teachers go back to the classroom, they go with my prayers and good wishes for rich memories of not necessarily what they are going to learn from the textbook, but what they are going to experience from each other. Because when all is said and done, it will be those interpersonal relationships between teacher and student, and between student and student that will remain with them for the rest of their days.

Here is to good memories. I have some and I hope that you do too!

Quote for today: Smartness runs in my family. When I went to school I was so smart my teacher was in my class for five years. Gracie Allen

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