| Jennifer Beckett
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The breeze is blowing through my hair and the creak of my rocking chair sings as I sway back and forth. I take notice of a blue car that is following the path down to my house. Out steps my niece, just a youthful sweet-tempered girl of twenty-five. Her hair looks a bit in disarray from the wind blowing through it, and her eyes have the familiar twinkle I see as she approaches me. She has questions on her mind; her visits always occur like this. I reach out my wrinkled hand for her to take a seat beside me. She delicately shifts her body grasping my hand tenderly while the breeze continues to blow through our hair. "Why did you want to become a special-education teacher Auntie," she asks. Her teaching career had only begun just a mere six months before. I've told her my story many times of a path created for me long ago. I repeat it, knowing she must need encouragement once again. I begin my story with reference to my own children, who grew up requiring additional assistance with their schooling. "Special-education teachers came into my home to instruct my children," I tell her. "Remember how John was consumed with his fictional world, isolated from the acceptance of society, and Jasmine who struggled to gain knowledge of new concepts. Justin, the youngest, weakened by his seizures tore at the fabric of my heart-strings." My courageous children, impacted so deeply by their conditions, inspired by their extraordinary teachers. My path to become a teacher started when I met my own children's teachers. It was their enthusiasm that inspired me to become a teacher. Learning had always been a passion of mine. I especially adored the stories where the prince married the princess. Oh how I wanted to share this love of reading and imaginative play with children. In particular, the children that worked so hard but just couldn't quite take hold of the ability to read. I knew learning for these children was a gradual process, but one filled with anticipation. I wanted to encourage a confidence in children with special needs, just like I watched the teachers that came into my home to encourage my own children. I had begun my teaching career with a great deal of enthusiasm. I had tried to make a difference in exceptional childrens' lives. Nevertheless, somewhere around the age of fifty, I had grown tired of the rules of the school districts and my path did not seem clear any longer. I found myself speculating how my path had led to a place where it seemed no one thought about what was needed to make an impact in a struggling child's life. Then, one gracious day, I received a call from my director with reference to a boy who needed a teacher. This boy, I was told, was to be taught in his home. His seizures caused him to stumble and fall, creating a need for constant attention. When the seizures occurred his mind had trouble accessing words, causing some developmental delays. It left his mind in a place where he would rather live in his own secret world, than be part of society. I was advised that he was a complex boy, one that no teacher had been able to teach; he was all of just six years old. Having a child of my own with seizures, I found myself called upon to help this powerless boy. My first day with Jimmy began as I approached the path that led up to the door of his house. I wondered how I, even with all my years of teaching exceptional children, could possibly penetrate this little boy's heart. His mother, with a sweet smile on her face, opened the door slowly at first, and then with a resounding BANG the door flew open. Standing there was a boy of six, with jet-black hair, and eyes a celestial blue. He yelled "Who you?" I answered back that I was his new teacher. He made a growl from deep within his throat. I looked into his electric eyes and saw a glimmer of wonderment. His mother thanked me profusely for coming. She said many teachers had tried to teach Jimmy, but none had been successful. It seemed, that Jimmy liked to be in control of every situation and this made it difficult for him to focus on any task presented. My intuition told me that I would be able to connect with this little boy. His mother smiled tenderly and gave me his special crackers. I was informed that he could only have some if he listened to me. I gave the privileged crackers to little Jimmy, asking him to hold them for me. I knew he would sneak the crackers, but I did not care. I was out to make a friend not a foe. I walked, and he ran to his room zooming around with his toys, and his special box of crackers. I asked him to show me around, and I purposely turned my head, as he snuck some of the crackers. I let Jimmy think that he had pulled one over on me. I was letting him have a sense of being in control of the situation, and I hoped he would respond. He asked my name, and I replied, "Patti." He said, "You be the princess." I gladly accepted the offer to become part of his world. My intuition had been right, by allowing Jimmy to think he had all of the control, I was welcomed into his secret world. Over the next several weeks my journey with Jimmy evolved, with him sneaking crackers from his special box and my playing his princess. Our time together passed, and I gained his trust. One day, while I was playing princess with him, I boldly gazed into his celestial blue eyes as he snuck those restricted crackers. I told him that he was the best sneak in the entire world. His face lit up and he whole-heartedly agreed. He gradually had given up some of his precious control to me. He allowed me to read to him, and especially adored the stories where the prince married the princess. The weeks wore on and Jimmy began to allow me to teach him to read. The process was slow but I was subtle, not quite knowing what the next moment might bring. It took a lot of effort on my part to keep up with the antics of this dark haired boy, and his celestial blue eyes. One clear and sunny morning I awakened to the birds chirping outside. This was my day to see my sweet Jimmy. A smile broke out on my face, and I could not hold back the thoughts of what new adventures lie ahead for us today. I approached his house and he ran out to greet me. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants with a button down shirt and a tie. Around his back was tied a cape of some sort. He twirled around with his eyes beaming, ready for our new adventure. We began our session again with his special box of crackers. Yet, now he knew that I recognized he was the biggest and best sneak in the whole entire world. With a mouth full of crackers he called out his chosen name for me, "Princess Patti," he said. I replied, "Yes Master Jimmy." He began again, "Princess Patti, will you marry me?" Before I could reply, he started in again, "I will buy you a bunny rabbit, a wedding dress, and a wedding hat. I will love you in my heart forever and I will kiss you on the lips." Without even a moments hesitation I replied with a resounding, "Yes!" "But, Princess Patti," Jimmy said, "You will have to wait for me to be all grown up, will you wait?" Again I replied, "Yes." "Even if you have to wait until you're four hundred?" Jimmy asked. "Yes, even if I have to wait until I'm four hundred." I left that day with a hug and a kiss on my cheek. I had gone from his teacher, to his princess, to his future wife, all within a few weeks. I knew my dreams had come true! The next time we met Jimmy reminded me of our upcoming wedding, and I was delighted he still remembered. He then asked me, with an amazing wonderment on his little face, "Princess Patti, are you teaching me to read?" "Why of course Jimmy," I replied. "I thought so," he said. Over the next few years I continued to be successful with teaching Jimmy. He would still have moments where his body would be floppy, and he would hold his head crying that he just couldn't remember. I would softly rub his back until the episode was over and he could remember again. He had gone from a challenging child, to a charming young man. I was incredibly proud of the boy that once had proposed to me. Jimmy eventually went on to a special school for children like him, but I never stop thinking about him. I truly believe he has never forgotten me. The little boy with jet-black hair, celestial blue eyes, and his special box of crackers learned to read. I turned to my niece, who had hardly taken a breath while listening to me ramble away, and gave her an affectionate pat on her dainty back. I told her, "Someday you will have the chance to teach a little boy like my sweet Jimmy, and only then will the peace and understanding of the path you've chosen in your life become clearer to you." "Look at me," I tell her. "It took me until the age of seventy-three years old to reflect on the time I spent teaching that sweet little boy." She responded with an understanding nod of her head, and I knew my story had led to some answers for her. Then, I quietly continued on with my reflections as she gently held my hand. The reason for the path I chose those many years ago has little by little become clearer. It was my own children and their many special needs that paved the path for me to enter the world of teaching. However, it was only through my experience with Jimmy did the path I chose to become a teacher turn out to be obvious. Somehow, I penetrated this little boy's heart and taught him to read. I finally realized, that I must be part of some divine plan, a key player for these special children. I am forever grateful I was chosen to be that key player, as I forged through the path that it created for my life. |
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This paper was created for
English 116A |