Byrning Notes XXXIV (How many have? What age did we forget about being inspired?)

I was supervised by an older lady, she had a doctorate in education. I remember the few of us met at Gulf-Park campus in Long Beach. She was explaining all the policies and assignments. I was second guessing myself, and not understanding her. I acted out by asking too many questions and acting like the class clown. She took less than five minutes of that, “Be quiet and listen!” “I’m sorry.” “Be quiet!”

I was assigned student teaching at Pass Road Elementary. The first day of seeing teachers yell directives to students mortified me. Reminded me of what they said in Hattiesburg, “Kids love school in the early years. Why do they hate it by the time they get to high school?” I started noticing beautifully anthem pictures on the walls. Were mostly, with a man/woman taking on insurmountable odds. Climbing mountains , running on beautiful roads, etc; with phrases like, “Don’t Give Up.” “The journey stars with one step.” Blah blah blah. Believe all that until you conform and have a boss and work a job you hate, right? How many have? What age did we forget about being inspired?

When I went into those classrooms to assist teachers I saw their class attendance rolls. Immediately, I noticed the last names and birthdays. Birth dates that were near the time that I graduated high school. A few had the same last names as peers I went to school with-was their off springs. Unstoppable were all the emotions, feelings, from school (the rejection, the humiliation, the heart breaks, ‘Why wasn’t my life different? I used to be the rich kid.’) The teachers at Pass Road Elementary noticed. I remember the faculty meeting was about the “Romeo Syndrome.” The Romeo Syndrome is fathers with multiple children with different mommas. These mommas would come to school with drama vying for affection. During this two hour meeting we discussed ways to resolve these matters peacefully.

I remember staring at the signs by the speed limit signs outside of the school were crystal meth pictures. Twelve year old looking like they were ninety.

Next morning, around 6 am, my supervisor called telling me that Pass Road Elementary didn’t want me to come back. I was devastated. Thus resentments against my home town, that I hope are not real, indicated that the school district I went to didn’t want me. I had gone into the Army. Improved my life. It didn’t matter. They still saw me in a bad way. I have come to realize that some people will only remember you from specific life stages because they didn’t know you, or care to know you, outside of those stages.

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