A Legacy

I just started back to work teaching four sections of Composition I two weeks ago, and it just dawned on me today that I am beginning my 16th year of teaching.

Wow . . . when did I get so old?

I've been teaching since I was 23 years old. I have spent 2 years in a public junior high (now I know why those are the jobs they give the "new" teachers!), 8 years in a private preparatory high school, and I am beginning my 6th year as a college instructor. I've taught students who could hardly read above the 3rd grade level to ones who went on to Ivy League colleges; I've taught gang members during summer school with the Little Rock School District while a guard stood outside my door; I've taught pregnant teenagers; I've taught National Merit Scholars; I've taught college students who are old enough to be my parents.

It's been a wonderful, crazy, busy, and exciting ride!

Teaching has definitely been my calling and my passion. From the time I was little, I remember playing school and recycling old workbooks and making my siblings do them for "fun." I had dreamed of teaching college when I was in high school, only then to "settle" for a job as a high school teacher because there wasn't a way for me to pursue my doctorate degree after I got married and lived in Little Rock. It turned out to be the very best thing I ever did, as I found a great niche as a high school teacher, and I feel that I really got to make a difference during those years. Ironically, God has allowed that dream to come true in a different way than I ever imagined, as I currently teach at the college level and can work from home to be with my young children. I've had the best experiences being a teacher. It's never been like a job to me; it's been a part of who I am -- a product of my upbringing, a part of my innate need to connect with people and help them learn. As Stuart says, it's a way for me to use up the 10,000 words that I have to get out every day! Without it, I don't think I would feel as useful in the world. I am so grateful that I can still combine teaching with raising my children, and when they are ready, I will reenter the classroom as a full-time faculty member once again.

I started thinking about the students whom I've taught over the years, and the ones that I've seen as adults and where life has taken them. One of my former ninth grade students is a pharmacist now. He filled my prescription for me at Walgreens one night very late when I had a sick baby with an ear infection. He talked to me through the drive-thru lane with the sliding drawer and asked if I was the same "Mrs. Cearley" from Sheridan Junior High. It felt a bit strange to have to look up at him from my car while he gave me directions about the medication, and I smiled at the role reversal. He reminisced about how he loved my class and asked about my family. He seemed to have fond memories of my class, and I was proud to see that he had turned out so well.

Another student had a difficult and often explosive relationship with her mother. She took several classes with me, and it was always a challenge because the mother was often overinvolved. The student got pregnant during her first year in college. No one was surprised because I had heard several teachers say that she probably got pregnant just to have a way to escape her overbearing mother. She dropped out of college to marry the father, and now she lives near me. I run into her every few months at the soccer field, library, or a consignment sale. She's now been married for eight years, and she just had her fourth baby, but she said she still can't bring herself to call me by my first name; I'm still "Mrs. Cearley." She is such a great mom and shows genuine pleasure and interest in her kids. I visited with her husband at a library party this summer, and he really shows maturity for his young years. He's about to begin a term as a city councilman, and he is a very involved father. They are actively involved in a local church, and I am so proud of this student for turning her rocky start into a stable and loving home.

Another one of my favorite students was arrested last year for selling drugs. It was a widely televised arrest, and I saw his picture flash on the news repeatedly, and my heart broke for him. Initially, I was shocked. He had so much potential. What happened? I remember the talks we'd had, and how he had such severe ADHD that many teachers couldn't stand him being in their class. He liked English and was good at it, so his ADHD never bothered me. He had always seemed so naive and a bit immature, not at all like a person who would become a drug dealer in the next five years. I remember that he ate pencils and tore apart the plastic covers on 3-ring notebooks (literally) because he had such nervous energy. I routinely had to clean up the floor under his desk after he left class because of the debris he'd leave behind. But, he had such natural intelligence, good looks, and charisma. I remember thinking that he'd find his niche in college because high school was hard for him socially. I knew he didn't have a good relationship with his father, who was a very public personality in our community. On his final day of class with me, he sent me flowers. Now he is in jail.

Not all the stories with my students turn out well, but most do. I enjoy running into former students and seeing them grown. I read the Sunday social section to see if I recognize names of former students in high society listings or wedding announcements. Just last December, I was at the OBGYN office for one of my final checkups before I delivered Arden, and I heard an excited voice behind me say, "Mrs. Cearley?" I turned my huge belly in the direction of the voice, and came face to face with a former student who was also pregnant (with her 2nd child). She was probably 25. I was 37. Not to mention that she was as beautiful as a model and still looked trendy even when pregnant! We were both pregnant, but I was way too old for it! She laughed that we were pregnant together, and I enjoyed catching up with her. She is a great Christian mom who is staying home to raise her girls, and she reflected on my English class and all she enjoyed about it. She gave me the news on her classmates whom I also taught, and who is married, who is pregnant, etc.

When she was called out of the waiting room for her appointment, we hugged goodbye. I smiled as I watched her walk away. It felt really good. I felt like I had made a difference, and years later I hadn't been forgotten. Arden kicked inside my belly at the same time, and I laughed. I guess there are are a couple of ways that I'm leaving my legacy!