If anyone seemed to invite confrontation, that loud back-in-your-face
behaviour so common in classroom, it was Dr. Balleret. Yet here in the
library the students were thrown back on their heels, conceding her right
to be brash, to rap their knuckles, smack them on the side of her head
with her well-spoken words. Not a whimper of protest slipped from
their lips.
"They're basically nice decent kids, notwithstanding the terrible
circumstances they live in," she was saying to Radix, her eyes darting
from table to table. "I had these three kids…I'll always remember
this…these three kids were kicking up a squall in the hallway one
morning…you could hear them through the library doors. I stuck my head
out and looked at them. They sort of froze, waiting to see what I'd do
next. I invited them to come inside. One of them ran off. The others
looked at me as if I were crazy. Come, come inside, I want to talk to
you, I said."
She took a deep breath, and adjusted her clothes.
"So they came in, and I sat them down at a table and I said, Okay, I want
to talk to you, one by one in my office. Naturally they were mystified.
What do you want to talk about? So I said, Well, why don't you come
into my office. One by one, and find out? And they came…one by one
they came into my office. I sat them down and gave them the lecture."
"The lecture?" Radix shifted his feet and looked sufficiently curious.
"I call it "The Seven Pillars of Achievement and Success". I explained to
them what "responsibility" means, why it's important to get things done,
especially things they regard as boring."
"They hear a lot of that in the classroom," Radix said, more than a little
irritated now by her air of self-importance.
"You see, I've discovered what is sadly lacking in these kids. Lessons in
moral standards, appropriate behaviour. Nobody talks to them about
these things."
"They get that from their parents, and when they go to church on
Sundays."
"No, I don't mean all that motivating…I am somebody!…stuff. They're
tired of hearing that. They get bullied every day with that. No, I mean
mean ideas for successful living… your basic bootstrap ideas… that
would lift them out of the awful situations they find themselves in.
And I'll tell you this: those kids sat and listened to me as if they were
hearing everything I said for the first time. And the following day one of
them came up to me and said, "I've come for my lecture." Your lecture,
I said. "Yes, my lecture. The other kids got theirs; I wasn't there; so I
want my lecture." She laughed in a curt, amused way. "That's how much
it meant to them."
That day Radix left the library thinking: how pontifical, how ancient this
woman is, for all her sensitivity to student issues.
And for awhile he couldn't get rid of her. She'd come over to where he
sat with the New York Times. She'd smile, remove her glasses and say,
Good morning, Michael…and how are we today? She'd look into his eyes
with what seemed an offer, a promise of eternal friendship. He'd stop
reading, lift his head and listen as she relayed in a voice just above a
whisper something of human interest she'd observed; something amusing
or sad.
He remembered only words and phrases he'd heard no one else in the
building deliver with unfailing civility and dedication ̶ Michael, I kid
you not; and Notwithstanding.
(from "Ah Mikhail, O Fidel!", a novel by N.D.Williams, 2001)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 