Penny Thoughts: Good Lessons Stand the Test of Time
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the policy or position of The West Alabama Watchman.
Teachers often wonder if the lessons they so laboriously plan and skillfully deliver will render any tangible results. The end of this 2019-2020 school year was abruptly halted due to the COVID-19 scare. This fact prompted teachers to dig deeply into their folders and recollections of teaching tools to continue their craft with their students in far different delivery modes and platforms.
Regardless of their new approaches there is a universal fact to learning which the genuinely good teachers know: some lessons learned do not surface immediately and only manifest themselves later in the lives of students.
We all know of such instances – we have affectionately referred to such students as the “late bloomers” – and American education has celebrated this as a fact of a society framed by a democratic notion of governance. It is the height of acknowledging achievement through individual development, and it is the pinnacle of a system which honors a meritocracy, that is, one in which success and advancement are functions of one’s determination and desire.
The great mystery for good teachers, the real pedagogists, is exactly when can the student master the lessons so assiduously prepared and diligently presented in the classroom.
There are many such instances I can recall in my career in the classroom. The young school newspaper reporter whose writing was so atrocious that I encouraged him to try something else comes to mind. He took my comments to heart and determined to prove me wrong. He did and became the editor of the school newspaper. He is now the editor of a small-town newspaper in Kansas.
Still, there is one instance which glaringly resurfaces every time I engage this discussion. In this instance, the classroom was the football field, but those of us who have coached know, in the words of legendary Florida State Football Coach, Bobby Bowden, “You cannot be a good coach if you are not a good teacher.”
In 1972, I had taken a job as Offensive Coordinator at El Dorado High School in Kansas. The previous year they had qualified for the state playoffs and had a significant number of returning players and were considered a top contender for the 5-A State Championship.
As we began two-a-day sessions in August I had a meeting with the offensive personnel. During that meeting I espoused the usual coaching admonitions praising hard work, dedication, commitment, and belief in individual ability and team achievement. At the same time, I repeated the mantra over and over that we were State Championship contenders, real challengers for the state crown that year. If we were to achieve it, every player on the team would have to believe it and work with that end in mind on every play of every game.
The meeting closed with great enthusiasm and esprit de corps. However, as the players filed out there was one young man who had stayed back. It was our returning all-conference center, Dan Lawrence. Now, Dan was a good player a bit over 6’3” and weighing about 220, which was a good-sized center in those days. He seemed a bit reserved and I asked him what was bothering him. After a few false starts, he finally blurted out, “Coach, I know we can be good, but I just don’t know about state champions.”
He doubted that the team could achieve that lofty goal. I reminded him how important he and his position were to winning and how crucial it was that everyone believed in the goal.
To shorten this story, we ended up with an 8-1 record. The only game we lost was to Derby High School 2-0 in the second game of the season. It was a safety that cost us a trip to the playoffs since Derby was in our District and they ended up 9-0 on the season. They won the State Championship.
It was Dan Lawrence’s missed block on our own two-yard line which caused the safety and our loss. And he knew it. He never missed a block the rest of the season after seeing it on film. I did not have to say a single thing to him – he knew it!
Now, fast forward to 1988. I was living in Naples, Florida, and I received a phone call. It was Dan Lawrence. He was excited because as Head Football Coach at Trinity High School in Kansas he had just won the State Championship for Class 2A. I felt elated and proud that one of my former players had achieved so well. There was more, as Dan went on and on.
“Coach,” he said in a high-pitched tone indicative of one fighting back some emotion, “Remember El Dorado in 1972? And how I doubted that we could win?” I responded with something platitudinous like well we all reflect on things and think we could have been better. But he said, “No, Coach! You were right! I didn’t believe and we didn’t win! But when I took this job, I told that story and we have a great program now. So, I just wanted to call and say thanks, Coach.”
We exchanged good-byes and then the long silence set in the moment after I hung up the phone. Those of us in the education field have moments like those – moments that make all the heartache go away, moments that choke the soul in a flood of gratitude, moments that stand as memorials in our life paths. And the silence of humility is gently balanced by the echoes of satisfaction and vindication seasoned with soft tears.
Teachers never know if they really get through to their students and they can only hope that someone grasped something. They hope that their good lessons are remembered – and then they get a call years later like the one I received from Dan Lawrence and it all makes sense.
Oh, by the way, Trinity High won two more State Championships during the 1980’s and is still considered a 2A power in Kansas High Schooligh SchoolHigh football. Dan called every time he won another state championship, and after each call when I was alone overwhelmed by his great success, tears somehow trickled down – too proud to fall, but too heavy to hold back.
And good lesson stand the test of time.