Terrance
One of the standard things that is taught to new teachers is the concept of self-fulfilling prophecy. If you think that a kid isn’t capable, that they’ll fail, then you are setting them up for such. But, as a teacher and a human, it is difficult not to pass judgment, not to form some sort of prediction in your mind about what the future might bring for any particular child. And while I’ve seen many examples of people who turn their lives around, I’m also finding that many of the basic judgments that I made back when I taught children have come to pass in some form or another. In some cases I hoped I’d be wrong, that circumstances might shift or forces align such that a child might beat the odds.
Take Yadira, pictured a few days ago. I might knew that her mind was truly capable of great things, but that the reality of being a poor immigrant in a racist system could likely close off many opportunities. For her that didn’t happen -- she earned a full-scholarship to Very Prestigious Private University where she now studies some sort of chemistry, micro-biology combination. Her sister, equally as brilliant, was sucked into gang life. In the end, their tight family carried the sister through, but it could have easily gone the other direction. And while I do not feel one needs to go to Very Prestigious Private University in order to fulfill potential, I was nonetheless pretty darn happy about Yadira’s fate in that sense.
The image above is Terrance. In spite of the fact that his body tended to move in five directions at once, and the fact that he was righteously pissed as hell about many things (and maybe because he was righteously pissed as hell), I always knew that he’d do just fine.
Terrance often came to school tired because his family would return home very late from church many nights of the week. He liked to find quiet places to read, so I’d let him go hang out on the sofa across the hall from the classroom. We had our mutual agreement, and it worked out well. Terrance also suffered from being in the shadow of his little brother, C., who happened to be a jaw-droppingly incredible drummer at the age of six. Terrance didn’t get the same kind of praise and adulation, and I could often see him walking the love-hate sibling rivalry line carefully.
Now a young adult, Terrance still lives in the same town, and still attends his church. He and C. have formed a soul/gospel band and they are seeking recording contracts. Though I don’t know many of the details, it seems clear that as I predicted he is doing just fine, and maybe even more than fine. He was smart, grounded, and embraced by a strong family and religious community. None of that has changed, and it likely has little to do with a self-fulfilling prophesy from his third grade teacher, even one who did let him read about Malcolm X in a quiet place across the hall.