Yankee Parade Brings Back Memories

This must be "student gets out of prison" story week. (See "So, You Get a Phone Call, Revised").

The Yankee parade reminded me of the parade 10 years ago. I was in a district job at the time and asked for the morning off. I stopped by my old school on the way. In one of those coincidences that seem so crazy, in walked a former student looking for me. Call him "M". He had just been released from a 7-year prison term, which he had served after a parole violation from a previous 7-year term. He must have been about 31 or 32 years old. He went in at 15. Half his life in jail.

We chatted and I told him I was on the way to the Yankee parade. "You took us on a trip to the Yankee parade," he said. Memories came flooding back. It was 1978. I was teaching a 6th grade class and we had a trip planned that day. So we made a pit stop to see the parade. We stood at the barriers on lower Broadway and waited for the Yankees to go by. Crowds were sparse, but loads of ticker tape was floating down. Everyone was so friendly and the kids had a blast rolling in the masses of paper. Three or four flatbed trucks sent zipping by and we barely saw Reggie Jackson. Maybe 30 seconds.

These trips were the cement that glued relationships together between the kids and myself as the shared experiences created bonds that created a true classroom community. That was a special class because I had moved up with them from the 5th grade, so knowing all the kids and them knowing me made the opening of school particularly easy. Except for "M", who had not been in my class the year before. He wasn't a bad kid but just never shut up and was constantly calling out and making wise-ass comments. The first couple of weeks were rough for us and I had to get control of the situation. So one day I told him to tell his mother I was coming over the next afternoon to talk about his behavior. They lived in the projects. M opened the door when I knocked with a look of shock and surprise on his face. Surprisingly, rather than be unhappy, he seemed pleased that I came. That gave me some important insight into his character. I sat down in the living room with his mom, a very big woman. I told her that there was a lot to like about M, who could be very funny – when you weren't trying to teach – but he had to get control of himself. M sat there grinning ear to ear.

After that day we were pals. It wasn't only his behavior that changed. Mine did too. I began to tolerate his remarks and laughed openly at them. I often retorted and the kids loved what became a sort of routine between us. M became one of my favorite students of all time.