Making the Extra Effort Can Open Your Eyes
by Colleen Frederickson
Do you remember having a teacher whom it seemed everyone at the school disliked? Maybe he or she was cold, unapproachable or just plain unfriendly? Or have you ever worked with a person that no one seemed to get along with? Someone who never offered to start up a conversation or share funny little anecdotes like everyone else often did? Do you remember people rolling their eyes with contempt when that person walked by or entered the room? I do. Only, not only do I notice those types of folks, I often wonder about them. Why are they like that? Do they even know that’s how the general public perceives them, and more importantly, do they care? Surely there has to be a reason or more to their story than what is being projected and laid out for all to witness.
Something that I learned from my mother when I was just a kid was, understanding that since you don’t know everything about a person, how could you only have a negative judgement or opinion of who they really are based on such limited knowledge? People have their own histories and past experiences that shape how they interact or don’t interact with people around them. I believe they have their own ways of coping with their history or background and how they choose to cope with daily life may make them appear cold, uncaring, bossy, or difficult to get along with. Sometimes when you allow yourself to just get to know a “difficult” person, you find that really, they’re quite the opposite. I have learned that when I make the effort to actually engage with these types of people, I find that there are sometimes very real reasons or explanations for their behavior. In addition to just figuring out why someone may act or appear a certain way, I have often been given the pleasure of even forging a new and rewarding relationship with him or her.
One early memory of my mother exercising this practice, was when I was in the fourth grade. Our elementary school had hired on a new teacher for fourth grade and I was one of the fortunate students to have been enrolled in her class. Her name was Ms. Evans. Ms. Evans had big, teased up, boofy red hair that she would somehow manage to swoosh up into a little loose bun on the back of the top of her head. She was a fairly short woman, and had a figure of an “exaggerated” hourglass. By “exaggerated”, I mean she had a large bosom and derriere, but still maintained a relatively small waist. I remember her everyday in the beginning of the year, calmly sitting on her stool in front of the class addressing us and telling us what her expectations of us were. She NEVER made eye contact, in fact, she had this strange little fluttering eye tick and as she spoke, she would move her head around slowly, her eyelids quivering about like she was talking to an imaginary audience. Her voice was soft, but her tongue was sharp and every student in her class was terrified of her. She explained to her students what kind of work and behavior she expected of us, and I thought that surely I would never survive the fourth grade. I was used to the warm, friendly and fun teachers from my prior years at the school and this was a whole new experience. I begged and pleaded with my mom to please, please move me to another class. “Give it a chance, Colleen. You might be surprised,” she’d say. I cried myself to sleep for two weeks, literally, just distraught that she wouldn’t budge and take me out of my misery.
Soon, the school was receiving phone calls from worried and suspicious parents, questioning this new teacher that was hired to educate their fourth graders. Apparently I was not the only kid coming home from school and complaining about this hard nosed, tough and unfair new teacher. Not only did her demands and expectations of us sound impossible, but also she was just plain weird.
My mother was a very involved parent at the school, in fact she held the position of PTA President, and as a result, was able to develop friendships and relationships with the entire staff of my school. In addition to being a PTA member, she made herself available as a volunteered teacher’s aide if such help was needed. Immediately, she asked if she could volunteer to work in Ms. Evans’ class and help grade papers, assist students or do whatever task Ms. Evans asked her to do. She was granted her request, and soon took her assigned spot in the back of the classroom, at the little round table checking homework and various other given tasks.
After a few days of being entrenched with other outside-of-the-classroom school activities, my mother soon learned that not only were the kids suffering from the effects of apprehension of being in her class, but other teachers and faculty were also casting her as some sort of misfit or outcast. She had come here to California from the east coast, and didn’t really dress like the other teachers, and her lack of “bubbliness” didn’t endear her to the rest of the group either. My mother noticed Ms. Evans always eating her lunch in the teacher’s lounge, quietly sitting by herself, seemingly unnoticed by all the other teachers. If she was noticed, it was usually followed by some whispers, or facial expressions clearly showing a lack of approval for this new staff member. That’s all it took for my mother to make it her mission to get to know Ms. Evans.
During school hours she watched a little more closely at how she interacted with the students and began to slowly discern and discover that Ms. Evans was actually very passionate and invested in her role as a teacher. She noticed how she gave incredible individual attention to her students, had integrity and while she was definitely a tough teacher, she was not unreasonable. She was just trying to instill a work ethic for her class to adhere to and knew that we were all quite capable of abiding by it.
My mom started staying after school and helping Ms. Evans with the various duties and chores associated with a fourth grade classroom. She asked questions about her background and really tried hard to get her to open up about herself and share more of her personality. I remember thinking it was kind of strange that my mom was so interested in her, but as I was beginning to have second thoughts about the way I felt about her, I guess it sort of made sense to me. After all, not only had I survived the fourth grade thus far, but also I found I was actually enjoying some of the activities in her class.
One Friday afternoon, my mother invited Ms. Evans to our house for dinner. She agreed, and that evening, my “dreaded” fourth grade teacher was sitting at our dining room table, enjoying a spaghetti dinner with us. We learned that a few years back she had gone through a very bitter and painful divorce, which included a long and nasty custody battle involving her young daughter. She explained how difficult the entire process was and how teaching was her escape from the nightmare of her predicament. She shared stories of her daughter and we laughed at some of the tales she dispensed from her many years of teaching. Her “weirdness” seemed to kind of fade away and by the end of the evening, it was apparent that our family had a new friend.
As the year progressed, Ms. Evans didn’t ease up with her expectations in her classroom, but just as she must have anticipated, the students did meet them. I remember by the end of the year, I didn’t want to move on to the fifth grade. I had learned so much from her and was so proud of my accomplishments in that class. I looked up to her and after getting to know her better, I found her to be inspiring, insightful, and absorbingly interesting. She told fantastic stories and the entire class knew and felt that she really cared about each and every one of us.
I have found that once you learn more about a person, you gain more of an understanding of who they are and why they do what they do, or say what they say. When someone appears different, inaccessible or cold, there could be a real tangible reason for it or maybe just getting to know him or her may allow for a completely different assessment of their personality. I believe people limit their potential for gaining new friendships or relationships when they consistently pass judgement prematurely. I think everyone’s life would be far more enriched with valuable, treasured experiences if he or she could learn to practice what my mother taught me many years ago.