Giving Broken Kids a Chance

Ten years old. Another new city. Another new school. This made at least the 10th time my family had moved. My dad was in retail management, and we always seemed to be on the move. From Virginia, to North Carolina, to California, back to Virginia, down to Louisiana, and now up to Nashville, Tennessee, our latest move had just been completed as the new school year was beginning.

That first day, while scary and overwhelming, changed and impacted my life in so many ways. I met my best friend (whom I now work for), I became part of a school family (whom I served with for over 25 years as a teacher and principal), and I met my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Williams. She is a teacher I will never forget, and in her class, seeds were planted that would follow and impact me for the rest of my life.

In that class, we had a reading center and a pet mouse, and we even took our first crack at writing, as we each wrote and published our own storybook (which I still have to this day). The most special part of the day would come each afternoon as she read to us. Sometimes the stories were funny, other times they were sad, but each was special, including one I will never forget. She made that first year in a new place feel like home, a home that I was part of for over 30 years. I doubt she ever knew the impact she had on me and so many others, but the little seeds she planted every day were what helped make me the man, teacher, father, and writer I have become.

From talking with many others, this experience is not uncommon:

“My high school history teacher, Coach Pittman, was the teacher who inspired me to become a history teacher. He […] also instilled in me a passion for learning. He showed me that learning is leading. The best leaders and the best teachers are lifelong learners. When you are in high school, your classmates make fun of you because you are reading a book about Winston Churchill when the ‘normal’ thing to do is post on Facebook; Coach Pittman […] showed me that you can love sports and still be a nerd.” —Amy

“My 4th grade teacher had a daughter who was deaf. She not only taught us sign language but oftentimes communicated with us via sign language. She helped us have an understanding and appreciation for the deaf community.” —Chasity

“Being dyslexic, I hated reading, and we were always told what to read. My high school English teacher (Mrs. Butzer) had us read a ton but allowed us to pick with guidance what we wanted to read. It was because of her that I read ‘Jane Eyre’ voluntarily and continue to read and stress it to my children even to this day.” —Summer

“I could talk for hours about my 6th grade teacher. I grew up in a very cold and stoic family that never shared love or affection. I was a chubby little girl and bullied a lot. I remember one day as I was helping my 6th grade teacher with something like stapling things to the bulletin board, this teacher looked at me and said, ‘Carol, you’re really turning into a very pretty young lady.’ I think I had put a new barrette in my hair that day or something. It was the first time it ever occurred to me that possibly someone, someday, could view me as pretty. It literally changed the way I viewed myself. I could add things he taught me about race relations, given the fact that he was a black man in our recently desegregated school. I could tell you ways he shaped my idea of what a Godly Man is and should be. I could talk for hours. He died earlier this year, and I cried for days. Mr. Ingram always ended every letter, every card, every phone conversation by saying, ‘Be encouraged.’ I speak that to myself, hearing his voice in my head, quite often.” —Carol

“Mr. Kent, Algebra class, senior year. At the end of the year, I had many missing assignments. I would have failed the class even though I always made good grades. He gave a few days to turn in all those missing assignments to get my grade back up. He could have ‘taught me a lesson in responsibility,’ I suppose, but instead, he taught me kindness and empathy, and I felt like he really cared about me and my future. I love Mr. Kent, and I still run into him every once in a while at my mom’s church.” —Kristi

Robert Lewis Stevenson once said, “Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds that you plant.” This quote, in so many ways, exemplifies the life of a teacher and parent, especially teachers and parents of young children.

We spend day after day planting seeds of truth, knowledge, character, and skills for life, and sometimes we never see or know if those seeds have taken hold. We say it so many times, over and over again, that we wonder if they will ever “get it,” if those seeds will ever grow into a beautiful harvest of an adult life changed because of our impact and the seeds that we sowed.

In this, we forget that growth takes time, and that seeds do not take root overnight, but over the lifetime of growth for the plant. In much the same way, seeds we plant as teachers and parents in our young children will take their lifetime to grow and bear fruit. Many of us have been impacted in so many ways by the seeds planted in our lives—by teachers, parents, and adults— that even now are growing.

It is easy to get frustrated or weary when, day after day, we plant seed after seed, and it does not seem like those seeds are taking root. Whether we see it or not, though, growth is occurring, seeds are taking root, and lives are being impacted by what we are planting. We just need to be sure that no matter

the growth we do or do not see, we never grow weary. We must daily and intentionally keep planting these seeds.

Mrs. Williams was one of those teachers for me. That book I mentioned that I will never forget—it was the story of Joni Eareckson Tada, who was crippled as a young lady and battled life-long pain. The story Mrs. Williams read showed us how Tada dealt with devastating news and a lifelong struggle. At 15, when I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, that story reminded me to keep going, as it did when, two years ago, I discovered I had Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease. Just last week, things came full circle as I sat with a representative from the Joni Eareckson Tada Foundation (Joni and Friends), seeking advice on how I could help others through my struggle. Mrs. Williams helped prepare me for this journey by simply planting the seeds through reading a very special story to her class.

Just like a huge oak tree, growth like that takes a lifetime; whether we see it or not, know that the seeds you plant today are not wasted. They are the seeds of that young person’s future. “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9). This reminder says it all—parents, teachers, and others—you may not see the harvest from the seeds you plant, but it will come: if you do not give up, and you are faithful, and keep planting those seeds, each and every day.

Charles Mickles is an educational consultant with over 25 years in education. As a speaker and author, he has published three books and written numerous articles featured on The Mighty, Yahoo Lifestyles, and MSN. You can follow his story and read more at MinesParkinsons.com •

Homeschooling is on the rise in the United States. Whether it’s in response to pandemic restrictions schools forced upon students or in response to the changing academic climate within public and private schools alike, new Census Bureau data indicates that more than 11 percent of school-age children are now being homeschooled.