Sticks and Stones

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Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. I'm sure most of us have used that pithy comeback at some point in our lives as a rebuttal to the attack of some bully's aggression. I think we are all aware though of just how powerful words are. In fact, at times long after the bruises and bumps inflicted by physical aggression have healed we are often left with the emotional wounds that words can inflict upon us. Recently, I was reminded just how power words are in the hands of educators, and how they can alter the course of a lifetime. 

Not too many months ago, my wife and I meet a wonderful couple at church who are old enough to be our parents. Truth is though, when you reach a certain point in life a couple of decades in age mean a great deal less difference than in younger times, and we are at such a time. As we've come to spend more time with our new friends, and know each other better we are beginning to share many of the stories which have shaped our lives. One of the stories that has come out of our conversations is that of Millie (that's we will call he for the sake of this blog.) Millie is a bright, vivacious 80 something, full of life and still taking on new hobbies. One in particular she has shared is her love for painting. The other night she shared some of her latest creations with us and they were very good indeed. Millie specializes in landscapes, and her creations speak of her love of nature and an eye which sees the details which attest to the God she loves and worships.

As we viewed her paintings she shared with us that this hobby is actually one she dabbled in many years ago. As a young girl she loved to paint in school. In fact, the loved it so much that she considered taking art as a major in college, and making this passion a part of her adult professional life. It was then that she shared a painful wound that was inflicted by an unthinking and insensitive substitute art teacher. One day while creating another painting in class, this individual walked by her canvas and told Millie that it was terrible, and that she should reconsider any plans that she might have to pursue this passion any longer. Millie was crushed, and for many years only occasionally picked up a brush and pallet to engage her once loved passion.

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Finally, not to many years ago, in her mid 70's, Millie decided to put aside the hurtful words of long ago, and begin again to take art classes, and create on canvas once again the beauty that she sees all around her. As I noted, her painting are beautiful, and her passion and joy absolutely burst forth from both her person and the canvas she creates her master pieces on. As a friend of Millie, I am so happy for her that she has once again begun to use her gifts and talents, and engage in a pastime that means so very much to her. As an educator I am at once appalled that someone who calls themselves a teacher would be so insensitive with their words when they are in a position to impact students so greatly. At the same time, I wonder and worry that I too might have carelessly used my words at some point, inflicting a lifelong hurt the kind that Millie has carried with her for more than 5 decades. 

My take away from Millie's story, as a teacher, is to always remember the Millie's that walk into my classroom each and every day. My position and the words I use are so very powerful in the lives of the students I have the privilege to work with. I just hope that 5 decades down the line my students look back at their time with me as the time their passions and loves were ignited, not that point in time when sticks and stones crushed them, extinguishing an internal flame that once was a driving force in their lives.