I have waited a while to reblog this. It still breaks my old teacher’s heart to retell this story. But I would be letting Ruben down not to keep the story going.
When I was contemplating what this post for 1000 Voices for Compassion was going to say, I read this insightful post by Melissa Firman; When the Bully is the Teacher. It tore a few more holes in my soul. You see, I was a teacher. And I was not the safe, self-satisfied, sit-behind-the-desk-and-pontificate sort of teacher. I was the walk-up-and-down-the-aisles-between-the-student-desks teacher. I was the look-over-your-shoulder-and-care-what-you-are-learning teacher. I took the risks necessary to connect with kids and find out what was really happening in students’ lives. I was definitely aware of teachers who belittled their charges and used negative comments and punishments to motivate them. I did what I could to steer those teachers in another direction. I was involved in campus improvement teams. I provided in-service training to my fellow teachers on methods and implementation and best practices. I was a department head for middle school English for a…
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