Ok, so I really do not mean to just write about my school experiences, but some of this stuff just writes itself. I couldn't make it up if I tried. Here is the story of John C.:
John is a white guy, probably in his late fifties. This is his first semester of college. Ever. He is a nice guy, asks a lot of questions, and is straight outta Staten Island. Usually after class, a few students will hang around while I get my stuff together and ask questions or just talk to me about current events or speech topics, etc. On Monday, John hung around, and I asked him why he was in school at this time in his life. He explained to me how he was a tugboat captain in the Hudson River. He was actually one of the guys who helped pluck the plane survivors out of the water. But he is being forced into early retirement because of a pacemaker, so he has decided to go back to school. I asked him how long he had been a tugboat captain. The rest of the conversation went something like this:
John: I've had my tugboat license for, like, 35 years?
Me: Cool.
John: Yeah, I got my license through the coast guard, but then I became a city cop.
Me: NYPD?
John: Yeah, I did that for a while, then I uh, had to go away...
Me: Like, away away?
John: Yeah, like 12 years...
Me: (Head tilt) huh......
John: Yeah, I was a cop, but I was also a cop who robbed banks....
He then went on in graphic detail about a crooked cop's first night in general population too graphic to type here), and how over the course of 12 years he was moved to 19 different prisons, spending most of it in solitary confinement. He wanted to know if he could do a speech on the death penalty, because after his prison stay he was against it. I asked what changed his mind specifically. He told of how in his wing in solitary there were 2 men who had kidnapped a 10 year old child in Massachusetts and killed him and then brutally raped him (The Curly Murder) and that the lives of these 2 men were so horrible in prison that they would stand on their heads on the toilets to try to commit suicide by drowning because there is no death penalty in Massachusetts. He decided right then that death was too easy for those "scumbags." Huh.
He said though it near destroyed his family, prison changed him. He was definitely rehabilitated and felt he had paid his debt. I told him that I agreed with him, that once the debt is paid, it was time to move on. Though I did mention that a child molester, though having paid his time, should probably not be allowed to teach children.
"Yeah," he replied,"and I should probably never be allowed to work in a bank."
6 comments:
My John C. is Linda M. Mid to late fifties, learning disability, spikey hair, rough, lesbian, foul-mouthed (in the most endearing way), and completely enthralled with what she's been learning about theater. The other day, because I have an extremely strict rule about being late, she came running into the lecture hall screaming her apology for being late .... She was five minutes early.
awesome!
I'm so blown away by this story! Once again, I can't believe I complain about anything. You are doing important work, my friend!
Wow. Ridiculous. You should write a book with all the stories you get from your students...
I had a John H. when I taught journalism students in Florida. He was mid-50s, ponytailed and tattooed, and he came into my office asking to write for the student newspaper. It was his first semester of college, ever. He had been a carnival worker for most of his life and was leaving it behind to go to school. He bragged of the newspaper experience he had, and when I asked which paper, he said "a small paper in Southern Illinois." He didn't know I was from Southern Illinois at the time, so when I asked which one, he nonchalantly said, "The Menard Time." When I told him I was familiar with the (prison) newspaper, all the color slowly drained out of his face. I never asked why he was in Menard, and he went on to be a very reliable, skilled reporter for me.
Leigh, what a great story. Sometimes all we need is a chance.
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