Mainely Middle
Journal of the Maine Association for Middle
Level Education
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2003/2004 |
It's Too PersonalI drove down to work on a sunny Tuesday morning. I had a 45-minute commute and I had been thinking for a long time how I might kill myself. How does a successful, honor graduate in high school, and a graduate with high distinction from a state university get to this spot in his life. How can such emptiness in a person's life lead to killing him/herself? It is quite simple really. I learned early on that drugs and alcohol can make that empty spot just under your sternum seem smaller than it really is… at least for a time. My first experience with this was at my sister's graduation at the end of my fifth grade year. After the ceremony my brother and his friend took me with them and let me drink my first beer with them. I passed out, but I felt like one of the boys. In sixth grade I had access to marijuana, beer, and hard alcohol - rum, gin, and vodka. I felt empty inside. I felt incomplete and the drugs, alcohol, and approval from my friends and older siblings made me feel important and alive. Little did I know that slowly with every sip of beer, every shot of vodka, and every drag of a joint, I was killing myself. A little piece of me was dying every time. After a few years of this I did realize it, but felt that I was beyond help. School helped me feel this way. Some of my teachers treated me with so little respect. Looking back I see how little they knew about kids and how much they must have hated their jobs. The principal at my elementary school placed me in-between two doors to sit because I got in trouble for something, probably fighting. She forgot about me for one entire hour. Luckily, my love for music made me brave enough to summon enough courage to go ask if I could go back to class to participate in music. I remember the look on the principal's face - the disappointment she had in her eyes for herself, but she never said she was sorry. She never called my parents to tell them what had happened. She didn't respect me that much. I was also very mad at my fifth grade teacher for not coming to see where I was. I guess she didn't really care as much about me as she wanted me to think. None of them knew what a rough year I was experiencing at home. I had been hit by a car, my mother was sent to the hospital and diagnosed with Emphysema, and my father bravely stopped drinking and smoking to take care of his family. You could say our house was tense. If topics like this were okay to talk about at school, this might have been the year that I received some help from the caring and loving adults around me to make sure I was to achieve my greatest potential. It was not. You can imagine how my behavior was. Out of control. Attention getting. Distractible. I went from a bright star to a kid you need to watch. Another boy and I found each other. Our experience in fifth grade was similar, so we were there for each other and so were our families. When our brothers and sisters saw we were struggling in school, they showed us how to become cool - drugs and alcohol. It made us cool, popular, and free - or so it seemed. Thus began a deceitful wave that I rode until I was 28 years old on that sunny, Tuesday day when I almost crashed my car off of an exit near a small metropolitan area in which I lived. I was looking at my hand trying to decide if I might do it. I didn't want to live anymore. I was not afraid of dying - just living. It was far too painful. Here comes the part that our Supreme Court will not allow… The voices in my head were swirling… "Kill yourself! You have caused so much pain and suffering for your family. It would be best for them." "No! Do not do that. They will be sad. You will be selfish. What if you do not die?" Then… "You cannot kill yourself. I love you. Go where you are going. All will be well. Trust me." I decided to listen to that last voice. I was driving to a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. I was eight months sober and dying inside without any solution to my problems. When I got to that meeting they read something out of their book of recovery, the Big Book as they call it. "We had to ask ourselves why we shouldn't apply to our human problems this same readiness to change our point of view. We were having trouble with personal relationships, we couldn't control our emotional natures, we were a prey to misery and depression, we couldn't make a living, we had a feeling of uselessness, we were full of fear, we were unhappy, we couldn't seem to be of real help to other people…" In that moment on I-95 a Power Greater than Myself saved me. It literally pulled me from my self-imposed destiny. Since that time, I have come to find that Power to be God. The God of the old and new testaments. On that sunny Tuesday afternoon that God began to transform me from that shadow of a man to the person I am today and He will do that for you too. Now here is the part where you could ask your kids who's story they believe this is. Many would get Shaq, Eminem, one of the Back Street Boys. What if I could tell them it was me. Yes, their teacher had lived this life and that was why he was teaching them, so they do not have to. The last part of the story might take on new meaning, huh? Don't use drugs. They won't make you cool. They will kill you - either a little bit at a time or all at once if you are not careful. I know, I tried. Don't use alcohol. It won't solve your problem. It will make you have more problems then you can ever solve on your own. I know, I tried. Please do not kill yourself. Come to me if you even think about it. I understand and I want to help you move beyond dying so you can get onto living. I know, I almost tried and died. Wouldn't it be interesting if American society was honest… if they really wanted to know who their neighbors were and share in their lives and their true selves? Are we ready for it, or are we still content to live in the shadows of ourselves and our fellow citizens? I think it is unfortunate that we, as teachers, cannot share with our children all of our life experiences. You know the hard-knocks that we have not only learned the most from, but that have shaped us into the unique, strong, faithful, and wise people we have become. Many of us have dealt with difficult situations that have transformed us, changed us, and made us the loving, caring, idealistic teachers we are today. My supervising teacher during my student teaching described a parent as an alcoholic. "You know he is one of those people that you cannot trust, that is uneducated, and only cares about himself." She never realized how silly she sounded to me, being a sober alcoholic of one year at the time. She taught me a lesson though, keep my true self to myself. There is a great deal of prejudice in our society still. This saddens me beyond belief. I am a recovered alcoholic today! This is the best part about me. It allowed me to face suicide head on one day and begin to live. It allowed me to choose to take a $15,000 pay cut to become a teacher. It allows me to cry with my kids when I am moved to cry and laugh heartily and sincerely. It allows my kids to see a human being that prays for them regularly and would jump in front of an armed man for their safety. I read a study the state of Maine put out about three years ago. It said that approximately 44% of all middle school aged kids consider suicide. Do you think my story might allow a kid to come to me with a similar problem? I bet it would be more effective then the DARE Program or Red Ribbon week! You be the judge. I believe that we as teachers need to stand up for what is right instead of what is safe. I share my life victories with my fellow staff in hopes of them gaining some understanding for my passion for my children and with the hope that if they are having any of the difficulties I once had, they might ask for help. We need to all stand behind This We Believe and begin a revolution of school reform. Yes, the teachers need to do the work - no one is going to do it for us. If we do, maybe one kid will have it a little better then each of us did. For God's sake, I hope they have a better go of it than I did.
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