Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Teacher


“I could’ve been a cowboy”

            You don’t have to be a teacher to change a kid’s life, but it helps. Obviously, I could say the same about parents and your kid’s friends and bullies, be they cyber or actual air breathing. Let’s face it, all of us have had our lives somewhat directed by others… for both good and bad.

            But, I just want to spend time on teachers. After all, the school year has just started, and some of these teachers are depressed as all get out. Some were depressed even before they met the kiddos, while others cratered after meeting the kids. Preconceived notions can really mess up a beginning teacher.   

            Before I begin my story about a particular teacher, let me present my bona fides by saying that I’ve spent 46 years of my life in a classroom. Not the same one, you understand? The majority of those years were spent in front of the classroom, but a bunch were spent at a desk being instructed by a teacher. I was not homeschooled, you understand. Faris and Elsie were fabulous parents, but because of time restraints, I doubt they would’ve gotten me much past the third grade.

            SinceI went to public school, my life off in a weird direction. And it was all because of my Sociology teacher, Mr. Massey. I’ve told the story before, but, hey, I’ve been blessed to have written so many of these articles, I may only imagine telling the story.

            The story goes like this: Mr. Massey was among the least threatening high school teachers I ever had. The minute you saw him, you developed a sense of relief. You entered his classroom knowing that for the next hour no one was going to get yelled at or humiliated. I had no plans for being a teacher back then, but if I had, I would’ve wanted to be a Mr. Massey.

            At the start of class one morning, Mr. Massey passed out index cards. He told us to each write down two possible career choices we might consider. I was a senior, and yet I couldn’t even come up with one lousy occupation. So I made a up a couple -- Cowboy or Forest Ranger. I thought of Forest Ranger because of the Yogi Bear cartoon. You know, Yogi was always ruffling the Ranger?  

            Well, the next day, Massey removed the rubber band from the stack of index cards he had collected from us the previous day, and began reading our career choices.
           
            No way! He should’ve told us he was going to do that. Remember a few paragraphs above where I mentioned no one being humiliated in his class. Well, I was getting ready to be the first. Massey began -- “Burgess, wants to be a chemical engineer. Where would you go to school for that, Burgess?”

            Melanie wanted to be a lawyer. A girl lawyer? Get real, Melanie. Of course, Massey encouraged her. On and on he went. We had a prospective neurologist, professional baseball player, cop, career Marine, and all the other usual suspects. Then he came to Mark, the guy who refused to take the assignment seriously.

            Mr. Massey looked at the card and smiled. He said, “And, Mark Hayter, wants to be a Forest Ranger.” He didn’t even mention the cowboy, which I thought funnier than the ranger. But, the class loved the ranger. You’d think I’d brought everyone a cupcake. They were all gaga over me, even before there was a GaGa. The girls even seemed impressed. Ginger never gave me two words, but she was all over the Ranger Man that day. She apparently had no idea what Forest Rangers get paid.

            Mr. Massey said, “Where would you go to school for that, Mark. I’m guessing Nacogdoches. SFA is the only school of forestry I know of.”  Well, after all of that attention, there was nothing left for me to do, but go to SFA and get a degree in Forestry. Which I did. My best friend, Johnny Sutton went with me. So did Gary Glover. Like me, neither of them had ever considered forestry.

            Right after college I got a job with the Texas Forest Service in Conroe’s District Six. Kay and I got married and rented an apartment in Conroe. Part of my job with the TFS was educating the public on forest management. I even went back to my old hometown and gave talks to students at Pasadena High School.

            Eventually, I left the Forest Service, but Kay and I didn’t leave Conroe. At the urging of a Preacher Man, I went to Sam Houston State to get my teaching bona fides. Afterwards Kay and I both got jobs with CISD.

            Had it not been for Mr. Massey, I doubt I would’ve ever had cause to move to Montgomery County. And, had I been home schooled, I assure you I would’ve never run into Kay Cross. I would’ve likely married a relative. (Please see that as a joke. None of ‘em could stand me.)

            In case you haven’t found a point to all of this, let me make one. -- It is flabbergasting how the smallest of events can alter a person’s path in life. For good or bad. So, let’s be careful out there. – And hug a teacher. And maybe your parents, friends and co-workers. Hugs are good. 
              
           
end
Mark can be contacted at hayter.mark@gmail.com. Visit Amazon Books to order Hayter's novel, “The Summer of 1976.”

No comments:

Post a Comment