A Change of Scenery

A few years after I began teaching eighth grade, I read somewhere that a good teacher changes ten per cent of what he teaches every year so that complacency and redundancy don't set in. At the end of my ninth year of teaching eighth grade, I needed more than just a ten per cent change.

I went to the principal and asked him if I could switch grade levels. I loved teaching eighth graders, but they were wearing me down. They were constantly arguing and debating every little thing I told them. Steve, the principal, agreed that changing grade levels would be a good idea for me. There was an opening for a language arts teacher in the seventh grade, and I jumped at the opportunity.

Marcia, my teaching teammate who taught math to our students in eighth grade, also moved at the same time. Another teacher, Deane, switched to our team to teach science, and all three of us shared the responsibility of teaming social studies and reading. This meant that we planned these units together and each taught one class in those subjects.

Teaching seventh grade was a breath of fresh air compared to the hormonally charged students in eighth grade. If I asked a seventh grader to do something, my query was not met with the gritty response I received from most eight graders, "Why?"

There was one girl in particular, Alyssa, who really touched my heart. She showed her compassion for others in a remarkable way one day in class. We were all reading silently, including me. The hallway door was opened, and in walked a runner from the main office. He walked in unnoticed and started talking. The whole class was startled because he was developmentally challenged and was very inarticulate. No one understood his garbled speech, but Alyssa got up from her desk and took the note the boy had in his hand and gave it to me. I read the name on the note and sent the student to the office. Alyssa returned to her seat, and the rest of the class resumed reading silently. In a similar situation in the eighth grade, a few students would have laughed at that boy, thereby changing an opportunity to assist someone in need and using it as a chance to ridicule him instead. I was extremely impressed by Alyssa's compassion and maturity.

At Christmas Alyssa gave me a cassette tape of music by Amy Grant.

"Thank you," I replied politely, "but I'm afraid I've never heard of her."

"She's a Christian singer, Mr. LaPre," Alyssa replied patiently, "I just thought you might enjoy listening to her music during Christmas."

Still mystified, I thanked her again. I made a mental note to ask my wife about Amy Grant. Cindy was a life-long Christian. She hadn't been plagued by doubt and disbelief her whole life, as had I, still an atheist at this time, but more and more Christians had been reaching out to me.

"Oh, that's wonderful music," Cindy said when I showed her the tape. As I listened to the tape, I had to agree with Cindy: it was wonderful music.

Alyssa's gift pushed me one step closer to converting to Christianity. The fateful day was less than two months away.

That was a very satisfying school year. The students made it a smooth transition from eighth grade, especially Alyssa.