Great Learning from a Negative Experience

One early morning in January 1971 I entered the student center at Lipscomb to eat breakfast. I was preparing for my first day of student teaching at Meigs Middle School, located in east Nashville. (Little did I know that across the dinning room my future wife, Rosalind, was also eating her breakfast and getting ready for her first day of student teaching at Tusculum Elementary School, not very far from campus.)

Heading out into the busy traffic, I was using the car of my good friend, Bobby Milam, who graciously loaned it to me to travel to my assigned school that quarter. Approaching the Meigs campus, I was apprehensive to say the least.  It wasn't unusual to hear stories coming out of there--vinyl tops being slashed, tires being cut, horror tales. In 1971 Meigs Middle, located near a housing project, was considered an inner city school. Today it is one of the premier magnet schools in the Davidson County TN School System. 

But not back then. To my knowledge, I was the first person from Lipscomb to student teach there.  I wasn't frustrated with my assignment because of the school's reputation, bad as it was. My chief concern was the distance and time it would take me to get back to campus and baseball practice in the afternoon. I had my scholarship to think about.

So I appealed to Dr. Brown, my supervising teacher at DLC, for a school that was closer. But he refused my request.  He went so far as to say, "Mark, you are here at Lipscomb to get an education, not to play baseball." Oh my, what!  I quickly informed him of his error, "No, Dr. Brown, you are wrong. I am here to play baseball." For added emphasis, I got up and walked out.

Dr. Franklin Jones, a good friend and mentor in the education department, had overheard the conversation.  He led me into his office but not to scold me. In his kind way he helped me rethink my foolish reaction.  And he assured me that everything would work out all right where I was going.  I was skeptical, but I trusted Dr. Jones and I knew it was something I had to do. How could I understand that this was the beginning of a very unorthodox student teaching experience which would become a valued foundational piece to my educational philosophy and career? But not in the ways you might think.  

I arrived at the middle school office that first morning and met Mr. Gillespie, the principal.  He was a friendly man who showed me around the school. I could see that this old building was in great need of repair. Next he introduced me to my supervising teacher, Mr. Clardy. It didn't take me long to sense that Mr. Clardy was the kind of teacher that you would not want for your son or daughter. But, as I have often observed, we can learn what to do from great teachers and what not to do from poor ones. He was the latter. So, here I was, not only in an assignment which took me across town but in a program that was suspect at best.

Lunchtime came on that first day and I was in the lunch line when a teenage boy with a long ponytail approached me. He said, "Are you a new teacher?" I answered, "Yes, I'm doing my student teaching here." He quickly responded, "Well, tomorrow I'm going to bring my 22 to school and blow your brains out." So I instinctively said, "If you don't stop talking like that, I'm going to break your neck!"

I never had another problem with that kid who, as it turned out, was in the gym class I was teaching. Wow, how times have changed! Today the boy would be sent to alternative school or suspended or worse and I would be strongly reprimanded if not dismissed. 

But that was only the beginning of my challenges at Meigs.  The physical education classes were large and Mr. Clardy had only half of the gym floor for his boys. The other half was for the woman teacher and her girls. She and Mr. Clardy shared an office in the gym. I would join them there each morning to start the day before the classes arrived.

On one particular morning in March as Easter was approaching, Mr. Clardy rose to leave our early morning meeting with an "encouragement" (or was it a directive?) toward me that he was leaving the room and he wanted me to pursue a physical relationship with this woman teacher! And he locked the door from the outside as he left. (Unbeknownst to me before that day, they had been carrying on a sexual relationship, though they were each married to someone else.) So, because of Lent, he was giving this up for forty days.  

 No class at Lipscomb had ever prepared me for this! I did the only thing I knew to do--which was to beat on the door and call for him to unlock it and let me out! So he did. He only laughed about it as I hurriedly left the office.

Even though he didn't pull any more stunts, I was concerned with what grade Mr. Clardy would give me. It was a challenge, even without his shenanigans. Some classes were so large that students just sat in the bleachers--in physical education! Others didn't participate because of learning disabilities or discipline problems. It was a deplorable educational environment.

I felt like I couldn't tell my supervising teacher at Lipscomb about the problems I was experiencing. In my opinion, Dr. Brown didn't have the expertise to handle problems like these. Dr. Wilkerson, who did my observations, never had a clue.

But I made it to the end of the term with Bobby's car and my dignity and--I might add--my life intact. Paramount to me in those days though was that I never ran late to baseball practice!

Although most of my days there were taxing, there is one positive that I was given during that time. I was assigned a case study of a young African-American boy named Eddie. He was an outstanding student athlete who had very few advantages living in the project. But he had the personality, character, and academic abilities which were off the charts. It was a joy to study him and to see what made him successful in spite of his limited environment. 

Yes, the school term was over but the lessons remain. At least three stand out in my mind:

 The first is that you must face intimidation head on. If you show weakness, it will only increase. Run toward the roar. 

Secondly, you have to be careful to stay far away from compromising and sensitive situations. You have to be alert and perceptive. Think ahead. 

Thirdly, you need to realize that underlying factors may exist. Do I have the capability to comprehend what is going on behind the scenes? Very often there is much more than meets the eye. My college professors were seemingly unaware of the potential problems such as I faced nor did they ask any questions at the end of the term. How many opportunities and insights are missed by neglecting to ask questions? They didn't even know that they didn't know.

Surprisingly I still view that experience as a blessing. I  learned more from this negative time in student teaching than in any class I attended during my undergraduate years. Was it in spite of the leaders involved rather than because of them? Does learning, whether positive or negative, ultimately rest in the teacher or in the student? 

Many years ago as a participant in the jail ministry work, I had the opportunity to meet Thomas Stubbs, a convicted felon, in the McNairy County jail. Thomas became a deeply committed believer in Jesus Christ during his time of incarceration. He has shared his story and his faith in many settings large and small. He once said, "If jail brought me to an awareness and relationship with Jesus Christ, how could imprisonment have been a bad thing?" Similarly if my time at Meigs, though negative, brought me lessons beyond the traditional curriculum, how could it have been a bad thing? James 1:2,3 makes sense to me now--"Consider it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds, because the testing of your faith produces perseverance." Perseverance is a significant piece of the foundation  from which wisdom in leadership can emerge. 

Remember, I believe we are all leaders regardless of our position.