* Eight Words from a Mother that Changed My Life Forever

My mother and baby brother in 1947.

In a previous post, I paid homage to my own mother and her inspirational effect on my average life as a student, which was always hindered by my poor performance on tests.  I was a ‘late bloomer’ and “as every mother knows, you cannot rush a rose.” Link http://pkvermonter.blogspot.com/2012/08/rose-is-rose-is-rose-is-rose-not.html

Now I want to pay homage to another mother, who shall remain anonymous, who, in eight words, changed forever my life as a teacher over twenty years ago.

Allow me to explain.

Twenty or more years ago, her son was my student in my eleventh grade English class.  He was often late but always made up his work in the required time.  He could be unpleasant , but that is often a teen-age characteristic, and I accept it as a given of growing up.

 When it came time to average his final grade, it came out to an 89.5(in other words, a B + for the marking period).

 This was before the days of computer grading and all “rounding-up” of grades was at the discretion of the teacher, not at the discretion of the machine. 

I had promised myself  and my students that if their final average was a plus .5% , I would push it over to the next full number, in this case a 90, or an A-.

Now I have a confession to make.

I am a stickler for attendance. I didn’t like the fact that he was absent or tardy once or twice every week.

 I re-calculated his average just to make sure it wasn’t an 89.4, in which case I would leave it a B+. 

Every time in came out 89.5, so I pushed it over. 

It went on his report card as an A-. 

I did it because I had given my word to myself and my students and I wanted to keep my word. 

I did not do it out of joy.

And now, the eight words that changed my life, as a teacher -----  and as a human being.

A month later, this student was killed in a tragic accident.

I attended the funeral, a bit heartsick.

Going through the receiving line, I introduced myself to his grieving mother as her son’s “English teacher.”  She shook my hand and I continued on, waiting my turn to approach the casket. 

As I stood in front of the casket, gazing down mouthing a silent prayer, I felt a gentle tug at my sleeve. 

His mother had left the receiving line and joined me .

We both gazed at her son’s lifeless body, and then she looked at me and said these  heart rending words: “It was the only ‘A’ he ever got.”

The blood drained from my face, as I realized that I could have denied this mother and son that moment of joy had I been a stingy, number-crunching, teacher.

Never again would I trespass on the possibility of denying a child and his/her parents that joy.

I will go to my own grave with that mother’s words ringing in my ears.

I am a better human being for having heard them.

“It was the only ‘A’ he ever got.”

Paul D. Keane,

M.A., M.Div., M.Ed.

Retired English teacher