A Motherless Child by Cynthia One day I was teaching year 2012 & this one boy really bothered my soul. Never at school, held over numerous times, or showed up disheveled trying to smile in the ashes. His writing was struggling as a seventh grader but he could read out loud very well. Reading out loud was one of my requirements in my English class. Good Morning Gentlemen. Welcome to Mrs. Turnquest-Jones class. You will read out loud everyday in my room. There are no excuses. We will help one another to get over the anxiety and you will have courage to read out loud for the rest of your life. Then I would add, You may need to read at your mothers funeral and there is nothing worse than reading out loud at a funeral and you can not read. Students are usually reluctant at first but, I never gave up and no one dare laughed at anyone who stumbled. By the end of each year my boys & girls knew how to read with confidence. Back to the story. He showed up one day with a big black eye & open wounds on his nose etc.... The entire class stared at him as he walked it. Remember I taught all boys for seven years and was also their home room teacher. I looked at him & said nothing. When talking to boys you can not sit there and chat their ears off. Get to the point and keep it moving. Actions speaks louder than words. So, I sent a student to soak the paper towels for me with water. I pulled out my first aid kit. And I started to clean him up. I asked him if he was hungry. He nodded yes. I gave him my yogurt and water. He ate and drank it all. I said, What happened? I was playing baseball. I replied, Well hell you suck. He smiled. He went on. I use to play baseball in Florida and my nickname is Mookie. I said nothing, kept cleaning, and put Vaseline on the cuts and around the swollen eye. I finished and gave him my bag of grapes along with a book and pencil. I said, I will see you during English class we are reading The Adventures of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick. Okay Mrs. TJ! Now this student would normally cut out but not Mrs TJ class because I will come looking for you in the park and sit right next to you while you smoke that splif and march you back to the class!!!!!! A student who clearly had a speech impediment and from Jamaica with a strong accent doubled back. He said, Mrs. Mrs. TJ. I, I, knew you would take care of, of im. Mrs. Mrs. TJ do you know why im de pon de streets? I said, No, Dillano. He said, im no have no madda (mother) like you fe take care of im. He is a motherless child Mrs. TJ. He left.... I went back to my index cards that I collect at the beginning of the school year. I have the students write anything to me on the first day. I looked for his card. It read: My Mom is in a hospital since I was born. I picked up a paper and cut out a heart. I wrote to him... My brother nickname is Mookie and he plays baseball. My Mom and Dad lives in Florida. I am happy that you decided to come to school today. P.S. Stay off the streets I mean baseball field. I served croissant and orange juice on this particular day because the main character Hugo Cabret was parentless and use to steal croissants. The students had to smell them, describe them, and last but not least taste them. I gave him the note as the class filled in to sit and begin our lesson. He read the note and looked at me. I kept teaching. His attendance was sporadic and I kept offering him food and wash his face etc.... Fast forward to the NYS English Exam. Before the exam I would give them a pep talk and breakfast bars. He walked in after not being in school for at least two months. Everyone started at him and this time I prayed out loud. Everyone bowed their head. I asked for guidance and ended off with Lord we thank you for watching over Stephen. Then I stopped because I may be tough but the tears were hot... The boys all turned, all looking at him, and said, Amen. Approximately five days after our exchange I received a text... Mrs TJ this is Tevin. They killed a student from YSA. My heart beat was in my throat. Who? Ramarley Graham. It wasnt him. But damit I thought it was... I never saw him again. Only when I march in the streets with the Graham Family. He would grab me and hug me and march with me and tell all of the dope dealers that this is Mrs TJ the best teacher I ever had... His name is Stephen!
Posted on: Thu, 17 Jul 2014 14:02:30 +0000
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