Śhe kicked me out of class
Over the next several posts (or so) I will share ten childhood memories
and lessons I glean for today.
She kicked me out of class.
I love school, learning, academic settings, campuses, all of it. But I was often a lot to handle. And several times, I was kicked out of class. My earliest memory of such an action was third grade
It wasn’t the only time in my academic journey the teacher asked me to leave. There were several times. Some were positive. Todd, you don’t need to take this class, you can be dismissed … Todd, will you go to the next room and tutor the first year Latin students … Todd, you have done enough and passed this class so you can skip the final … oh the joy!
But some where not so positive. Mr. Estes, report to detention … Mr. Estes, you need to visit the Principal’s office … Mr. Estes, stop disrupting class, get out. Ouch. Why is it when you are in trouble, they called me Mr. Estes?
In third grade, I think the teacher had my mothers phone number memorized. (Long before speed dial.) And the fact that my mother worked just across the street from the school did not help. But the teacher finally figured a way to handle me. You see, I normally finished my assignments early, especially math assignments. So instead of me sitting quietly at my desk, which wasn’t what my little mind wanted to do, my teacher sent me away. She allowed me to go to the library and read. Wow, I can’t believe I actually stayed quiet in the library. I would stay there for hours and just read.
She kicked me out of class … and sent me to the library.
I learned to love read at an early age. I still love to read. All genres … sci-fi, drama, crime, intrigue, fantasy … I love it. I remember a sci-if book where aliens invaded and they looked like electric towers. I remember western books of cowboys. CS Lewis, Tolkien, and more. I wish there had been Captain Underpants or Magic Tree House … but I did get to read these to my son.
The lesson from this early memory is this teacher may have just wanted me out of the class but she also saw something to help a restless young student. Did she consult with my parents? Did she get pre-approval from the librarian? Don’t know. Don’t care. Just grateful.
lessons I take from this memory …
- A restless child may just need a push in a new direction.
- A teacher that invests a little ingenuity may just spark a passion in a young student.
- Reading opens doors of imagination, and imagination opens whole new worlds.
- I am thankful for the teachers I had, even the ones that kicked me out of class.
It’s amazing how God can use even weird circumstances to create passions. What has he used in your life? Even if a bit strange.
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