One of the greatest–and most moving–lessons of my life came when I was supposed to be the teacher…
This is a true story.
I tutored at an inner city college for seven years. Many of my students were the first in their families to attend college. Some were the first to finish high school. Or not to sell drugs. A few have become my personal heroes.
My last student, a 19 year old pop culture drone, had just asked why she should “do punctuation.”
She shrugged and left.
My co-worker Trina, an African American grandma with a passion for cookies and Dostoyevsky, said, “Good point. My dog still can’t use a semi-colon.”
“If I get one more I’m-only-here-because-my-teacher-made-me knucklehead,” I curmudged, “I’m going to become a custodian.”
“This is community college, sweetie. You’re already in the recycling biz. Have a lemon cookie.” Before Trina could dispense the proffered…
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