A New Hope

I did my student teaching at Hope High School in Providence, RI. It was a big urban school, with a grand façade and a run down interior. A new principal had tried to energize the building at the beginning of the year by hanging a huge banner across the front of the school that said “A New Hope for Providence.” By January, when I started my student teaching there, the banner still hung above the front door, but there were big rips in it and it was flapping awkwardly because one of the corners had come undone. Not so hopeful.

I worked with a junior English class, and they gave me a hard time. Students sometimes “test” the naïve student teacher; they tested me. Hard. But my co-operating teacher left me alone with them, and we worked it out. By the end of my twelve weeks there, we were in a great place. I was incredibly proud of them, and I loved them in a way that new teachers love their first classes.

On my last day, before the cake and the soda and after I’d handed back their final grades and a good-bye letter, we had 5 extra minutes. I said to them, “Ok. We've got a little time. Is there anything you want to ask me that you didn’t have the chance to ask during class time?” Like popcorn, the hands shot up and the voices called out.

“How old are you?” “Are you married?” “Are you gay?” and then I heard a few snickers and an awkward silence.

In grad school, one of my professors had encouraged us to tell the truth in classes, and I believed that if a student could ask a question, she could handle the answer. I took a big breath, and I said, “Ok. I’m 25, no and yes.” The room erupted in nervous laughter, high fives, and a few “no way!!”s. After a few seconds, the room calmed down and I continued.

“I’m gay, and so are some of my friends and some of my family members. And every time I was working with you in class and you would make fun of something as ‘that’s so gay,’ it hurt. You did not mean to hurt me or the people I care about, but you did. I think you all are great and I am proud of you; I think we did great work together this spring. But I want you to be careful of pushing away or insulting the people who want to help you. Be careful of what you say, because you don’t know whom you might be offending. They may be people who could be important helpers in your life.” The room was silent.

“Let’s eat some cake.” We turned on the music, we ate cake and drank ginger ale and had a good last day together. And most of the class came up to me at the end of the period to shake my hand and say good-bye. I thought it went pretty well, and I left Hope High School.

I thought that was the end of it, but a few days later, I got a call from my co-operating teacher. She told me the day after I left, her class was still buzzing about what I said. She asked me to drop by so she could give me something. The next day, I swung by Hope one more time and she gave me a letter from Tommy. Tommy was the hardest kid for me to work with. He was a big talker and he really didn’t like to read or write. I’d spent lots of time and energy trying to keep Tommy focused in class those 12 weeks. My cooperating teacher was surprised that this student, who resisted writing so much all year, had written me a letter. Here’s what it said:

Dear Mr. ______.

I like to say sorry if you think I offended you. I understand your situation. So I hoe you forgive me and I hope you come and visit us soon, your favorite English class.

PS- as a friend who was your favorite student.

Your friend Thomas

I hope you’ll be my teacher in the future.

Another PS- you should run ball with us one day.

It was one of the best letters I will ever receive. Every time I read it, it reminds me of how important it is to say who we are. We never know who will hear what we say or how it will impact them. The affects may linger after we are gone, or they may impact people in ways we can’t imagine. Being gay did not define my relationship with that class. I was their teacher and I helped them become better students. But they taught me the power of being honest with students, of bringing my whole self into the classroom. I left that student teaching experience a little more hopeful, thanks to Tommy.