A classmate's comments
There were many memories of the years spent at Ramsay High School
but only "One" that stood out above all the rest that
would remain strong even unto this day.
That particular year had begun much the same as every year with
an element of excitement and commotion at first; then the
rhetoric that always seemed to accompany learning your schedules
and finding your classrooms.
One of my assigned subjects that beginning semester was the much
dredded class- geometry. I wasn't particularly bright in the
first place and coupled with having been assigned to a teacher
that was an older gentleman and a man of few
explanations.....well suffice it to say that my first six weeks
of geometry proved to reaffirm all my fears. I listened but I
just didn't comprehend. And when the first six week report card
period had arrived, just as I expected, I had an F in the
subject.
Of course, there was the usual lecture at home and the
"grounding for life" sentence, but what occurred the
next day at school somehow made me feel better. The whole school
was buzzing with the news that somehing was about to happen.
Several parents had accompanied their children to school the next
day. It wasn't long until I realized that I wasn't the only
person that had flunked this older gentleman's class. Why, some
of the school's smartest students had gotten a failing grade.
News raced from one classroom to another like wildfire of how
something was going to have to be done to remedy this injustice.
Now the next thing I am about to say may seem strange in some
way, but even though I had gotten an F in the class, it all
somehow seemed O.K. now that I knew many others had flunked with
me.
A week or so passed and the "Parental Outcry" rose up
so much so that action was taken. The school split the classes up
and shuffled half of us into an Algebra class.
I remember quite vividly still to this day the relief that I felt
as I was walking to the Algebra teachers class. It was short
lived. The moment I walked into her classroom and got a glipse of
her, a streak of terror went through my soul.
As the first few days were usully spent, the classmates were all
adjusting to the sequence of events that we had just come through
and we all felt somehow that we had been granted, as it were, a
stay of execution only to find that what we were in store for
could possibly be worse than where we had been.
I remember this day as if it were yeserday. The first bell had
rung ending one class and the halls were still full of the
newness of the school year with everybody loudly rushing about.
As we entered the algebra teacher's room, we each scurried to our
seats. The next bell rang which was the sounding signal that
every student should now be in their assigned class and in their
assigned seat ready to absorb knowledge.
Unfortunately, the bell did nothing for a group of students
sitting in the back of the room. They were still laughing and
jokeing and some of the boys were even sitting on top of the
desks hopeing to amuse the girls. The teacher tried to call the
class to order but the roar of the laughter from the back drowned
out her voice.
Suddenly, without warning, she had taken all she was going to
take and she screamed at them as she was scurrying down the isle
waving her arm wildly in the air. She knew that some of the boys
openly made fun of her appearance.....she was all of maybe 4'11
inches tall and her gray hair always seemed to stick out
unruly in all directions with a texture that was that old woman
wiry type hair. I know that she must have heard them as they
frequently commented on how she looked like a witch.
Bless her heart, at first I must admit that her appearance was
startling. She was almost a head shorter than me and I was short.
Her little arms and hands were afflicted with arthritis so much
so that when she pointed her finger in your face, they were bent
and knotted. And yes, her hair did stick out wildly on some days.
But as I watched her and heard the cruel remarks made to her day
after day, I began to feel sorry for her.
Anyway, back to the story.....
This day she was determined she would win their respect. She
scurred down the isle waving her arm wildly and when she arrived
at the back of the room, she met the tallest, most unruly boy
with her hands on her hips and her face only iches from his. He
was so stunned, he could not even answer her question. All 6' of
him just slid down into his seat as if his body had become
liquid.
A hush fell over the entire class as they waited for her to
return to her desk. As she rounded the last turn she yelled,
"Get out your pencils and paper. You're having a test."
That was enough to bring a degree of soberness to even the most
unruly. She grabbed a piece of chalk and scrawled a problem to
solve on the front board with such intensity that the chalk broke
and flew across the room.
Most there were in shock. We had only been in her class for a
couple of days and I dare say that only a few had any idea where
to start.
One of the paticular habits of teachers in those days was to call
on ones to answer questions that did not raise their hands
and to summons the ones to the front of the class that usually
didn't have a clue as to what was going on. I'm not sure if that
was a technique spelled out in the teachers manuals, but
nevertheless, it was a habit that brought great stress to me in
particular basically because I would "Never" raise my
hand. Inevitably, I would be called on to which great
embarrasment and humiliation would be heaped on my head.
This particular day had started off so strangely that no one knew
what to expect next. As I sat there at my desk with my left arm
hiding my paper and my pencil clutched in my right hand, the
teacher began to walk the isles stopping randomely at different
peoples desk. Then, the thing that I had feared the most was
about to happen. I could hear her footsteps coming up behind me.
I knew it was only a matter of moments until my embarrasement
would be made complete again. I didn't have a clue as to how to
do the math problem and as I sat there with my head held low to
my paper, I fought to hold back tears.
I felt her as she brushed up against my arm and true to form, she
stopped right beside me. She stood there for what seemed like an
eternity and I finally raised my head and looked right into her
eyes knowing by now that she could see that there was nothing on
my paper. She leaned down only inches from my face and stared
strangely as the tears that I had been fighting to hold back
finally rolled down my cheek. She winked at me and formed the
words with her lips never uttering a sound, "It's O.K.,
don't worry".
She then took flight again and rushed to the front of the room
and announced for everyone to put their pencils down. Instead of
the usual thing that follows, which was for each person to pass
their paper forward, she told each of us to put our papers away.
She smiled slightly and said, "Now, now that you know how
much you do not know, can we please get on with learning the
basics."
She ask if anyone would please raise their hand and go to
the board if they could solve the problem. No one moved. She
shuffled over to the board and began to work the problem.
I was always very self conscious in school for two reasons.
First, I had a form of diabetes that caused me to sweat profusely
whenever I got nervous. This was very embarrasing to have these
huge sweat rings form on my clothes. To be called on to stand up
in front of a class only served to bring more attention to my
problem which in turn made it all the worse. Then secondly, I was
a very slow learner. It seemed that I had to work three times as
hard just to get a passing grade. It wasn't that I didn't want to
understand. I truly did. I just didn't have the ability to grasp
things as readily as the next.
That day, as I sat with tears in my eyes, I was terrified that
the teacher would make an example out of me by calling attention
to my stupidity as well as to the tears in my eyes.
What would happen next as she worked the math problem on the
board I could only describe as a miracle. I sat there with my
eyes fixed on a woman who had been kind to me in a most
remarkable way. She had not embarassed me in front of the class
but had touched my heart somehow with the wink of her eye.
I watched her every move as she worked through the problem. And
suddenly, something happened that I could not explain. My heart
was filled with a strange sympathy for a woman who probably
had not had an easy life and certainly didn't deserve the
unkindness she was experiencing at this point. And just as
strangely as the first wave of emotion flooded my heart another
miracle occurred. All of a sudden, the complete ability to
comprehend algebra had been "bestowed."
The two experiences that day was so overwhelming I was unable to
do anything but sit there totally awestruck. And just as
strangely as my experience was, it was as if simultaneously, the
teacher knew what had happened.
When she put her chalk down, she turned and looked me straight in
the eyes and smiled. I knew she knew what had just occurred.
Was it a prayer she had uttered on my behalf silently to God as
she was moved by my tears? I don't know. But this one thing I do
know, that many years later in life as I read the account of how
at Jesus ascenion, He opened the disciples
understanding.........the exprience of what happened that day
came flooding back and I knew first hand that I had experienced
that same miracle that day in that class.
I never spoke a word to her of the things that passed between us
that strange day. I can only hope that one day, I will be given
the opportunity in heaven to tell Ms. Tharpe how she so
remarkably changed my life and how very grateful and blessed I
was to have known this woman.
Vicki Medlin Greek, Class of 1966, Vickigreek101@aol.com