I don’t want to write too much blah blah blah. I just want to share a tribute written by a friend and former classmate since elementary school. He wrote about one of our beloved former high school teachers (pictured on the left) who recently passed away. I will say more after you read his tribute….now go ahead and read but get a tissue first. It is shared as posted by Rodney on his Facebook page on August 1st. And it is formatted similar to poetry or prose.
THOUGHTS FROM THE PEANUT GALLERY
By: Rodney B.
Hindsight is definitely 20/20.
The phenomenon of not seeing “stuff” clearly while we’re in it…is lost on me. So, no answers, explanations, theories or opinions on that from me.
The point I’m trying to make here is…
At the beginning of the school year in 1981; I walked into my Sophomore year English Class with my classmates at 7:45 AM; and THIS woman walked in and told us to quiet down and take our seats.
THIS woman, was Carol Conway.
“Just another English class, just another English teacher…
Let me do what I do; make my grades and move on”.
That’s what I thought to myself back then.
Man…was I so wonderfully mistaken.
I won’t say Ms. Conway was the first teacher to encourage me; push me to believe in myself…
I won’t say she was the first teacher to tell me…
“Rodney, you can be whatever you want to be”.
Because she wasn’t.
What she was…was the first teacher to make me feel comfortable in my own skin.
I saw myself as one of millions.
She taught me to see myself as One of ONE .
Where scholastic programs put me into “Gifted Classes” because of my grades; Carol Conway looked me directly in the eye and told me “I” had Gifts.
Me.
And she encouraged me to recognize, realize, develop and USE them.
She told me I was a Creative before I even knew what that was.
She told me how special Creatives were.
She said that they brought into Being, things that weren’t there before.
She said Creatives change the World.
Of course, I thought this was all horseshit.
Nothing that special about me.
But, she wasn’t hearing any of that.
She said I was brilliant, but lazy.
She said Creativity was a Muscle that needed to be exercised, stretched and trained.
And then, she created a learning environment that was so comfortable and believable…
I tried.
And I wrote some of my best stuff under Carol Conway’s wing.
Now THIS is the story I wanted to tell about Carol Conway.
Didn’t want this to get too long…
But, f*ck that…
I’m giving Ms. Conway her due.
So, scroll on if you’re bored.
You troglodyte.
The best live performance I’ve ever seen in my life was by Natalie Swoope, in her 8th grade graduation recital. I was a 7th Grade usher in the ceremony.
She did “In The Morning” by Paul Laurence Dunbar.
It’s a poem written in Black Southern Dialect (later to be called “Ebonics”) and it was a Black Woman’s struggle to get her kid, Elias, out of bed and off to school.
Natalie frickin NAILED IT! The auditorium/gym erupted in a thunderous standing ovation.
Ripple Effects are a Mutha.
Ever since that day, so many years ago, I fell in love with Paul Laurence Dunbar.
And…”In The Morning”.
Still am.
So, fast-forward.
I’m in Ms Conway’s English class and she gives us an assignment we have to deliver in front of the entire class.
I can’t remember what the assignment was; all I remember was, “In The Morning” fit it perfectly.
Especially since Ms. Conway told me I was first up…In The Morning.
Now…
I want to do this poem.
But, I’m not a Black Woman, as is the orator in the piece; not as Natalie is in her performance some 3-4 years ago.
(Ripple Effects)
But, due to Ms. Conway’s teaching me to stretch myself creatively and think critically and outside of the box…
I realize Paul Laurence Dunbar wrote it!
And he’s a man.
And while I’m not a frustrated and weary Black Mother…
I am A Son…
So, I KNOW what one sounds like.
So…
I did it.
And (not to pat myself on the back)
I KILLED it.
First Period English.
7:45 in the AM.
Everybody is still inattentive with eye-boogers, corner-of-the-mouth crust and not interested in a damn thing…
And I break out with…
” ‘Lias…’Lias…Bless da Lawd! Don’t you know da days er’broad?”
I got a huge round of applause too!
And all I remember as I headed back to my desk was Ms Conway saying…
“It’s always the ones you don’t expect”.
“So, Rod..with all Ms. Conway instilled in you; why aren’t you a New York Times Best-selling Author by now?”
That’s not you.
That’s ME.
That’s what I ask myself all the time.
And here’s the answer I have…
So far…
There’s My Plan
And then there’s God’s Plan
All that Ms. Conway gave me…
Wasn’t to make me a best-selling author.
Not yet.
She didn’t give me a career…
She gave me armor.
She gave me the tools I needed to withstand and survive the bullshit that no one (including myself)
saw coming later on in My Life.
Namely…drug addiction.
I don’t throw words around.
I mean what I say; I say what I mean.
I speak from my Heart and I do my best to keep every word I speak or write completely
100.
I AM who I love and I AM who loves me.
I hear voices all the time.
That’s not to say I’m crazy (I may be a little)
But, whatever my experiences, I hear every voice of Love that everyone has ever spoken into me.
My Family, My Friends, anyone that has ever spoken Love into me…
I carry it with me ALWAYS.
So, in my Darkest Times it’s YOUR voices and Love that I hear.
I’m still HERE, because of YOU.
I’m not a statistic, a Sad Story…
I’m not a Memory…
Because of all of YOU.
I’m still HERE…
Because in those Dark Times I heard Ms. Conway saying,
“This is NOT you. You have Gifts.”
That woman was in my life for one year in 1981.
(Technically three… because she made sure her best friends who are also English teachers had me my Junior and Senior years)
And I’m still talking about her and loving her in 2025.
Is THAT just another English Teacher?
I think not.
Hindsight is 20/20.
Influence is Life-Long.
…And Love is Eternal.
Rodney B is a Chicago native who grew up on the West Side. He attended and excelled in Chicago Public Schools. Rodney attended Chicago State University and Illinois Institute of Technology. He has overcome major life obstacles and is dedicated to family, friends, former classmates, and whomever he can help.
I myself had rock star teachers, specifically my 4th grade teacher, high school Senior English teacher (pictured on the right), and my Differential Equations college professor. A good teacher can help us soar or make us crash land. If you had a former teacher who made you soar, please share with a comment. And let them know how important they are to you. Rodney and I have told our former high school teachers what they’ve meant to us; because they are all too often under appreciated. And finally to any educators who may read this I say thank you.
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PaisleyPerspective 