It wasn’t until I found my calling as an educator, that I realized the great power we have. As a student, I had good, bad and “ugly” teachers, sadly though the bad outnumbered the good. I had teachers whom belittle me because of my learning disability; another teacher was actually racist, and others discriminated towards me because either I wasn’t Puerto Rican enough or because my name is somewhat controversial. Although, I had these bad experiences with these educators, it was the good teachers whom inspired and molded me into the woman I am today.
For example Mrs. Robinson, my third grade influenced my life in such a powerful way; to the point where you can document my life as B.R. (before Robinson) and A.R. (after Robinson). Before, Mrs. Robinson I was a spoiled child and very sensitive a cry baby if you will. But Mrs. Robinson taught me to be stronger to have dignity and to defend myself. One day a classmate called me a “bad” word that rhymes with itch. I ran up to Mrs. Robinson tears streaming out tugged on her skirt – she was a tall woman as large as life attitude to match – so, here I was thinking my young classmate would get in trouble once I told her what he did – keep in mind I went to Mrs. Robinson to complain about almost anything I deemed bad or naughty at the time. I tug on her skirt, she looks down at me and asks “Jezabel, why are you crying now?” I sniffle … “Mrs. Robinson, he called me a bad word”; tears still streaming down my face as if someone left the faucet open. “What did he call you.” Her tone of voice was warmer, more patient. “He called me a…a…bah, bah, bah, bitch.” I then began sobbing even harder. I watch
Mrs. Robinson’s reaction she’s furious, so I allow myself to continue crying. Then, she responds in a tone that is fierce, like stone, but her words were blades that cut so deep, they seemed to have cut my tear ducts because I automatically stopped crying. “Soo!” My eyes dried immediately and popped out of their sockets, just like my aunt’s pug when it gets squeezed. “Do you know what a bitch is?” She asked, tone still hard, voice stern…I think how did I get in trouble? “It’s a female dog. Are you a female dog?” I shake my head. “Then forget it.” She pauses and kneels in front of me she’s really big. “In a softer tone she tells me “You need to be stronger, Jezabel. You can’t keep crying about anything unpleasant. Be confident in yourself and solve your own problems. You can only depend on yourself in life. I know you can do this.”
These words gave me a power that transformed me almost instantly. I felt stronger, empowered as a young girl. I saw value in myself at that moment. So much so, that when my classmate came back to harass me once again, I simply stood my ground and repeated the same words my favorite teacher had just taught me a few minutes prior. I didn’t curse, scream, cry or yell all I did was stand up for me and his reaction was just as mine, when Mrs. R spoke to me that way. Needless to say, he didn’t pick on me again. Out of this experience, I began reading dictionaries to learn the true meaning behind words; a hard task for a child with visual and learning problems, but Mrs. Robinson guided me the entire year. Thanks to her, I love reading, learning and most of all; I’m tougher and stronger as an individual; skills that have helped me later in life.
Mrs. Robinson is a perfect example of Uncle Ben’s philosophy. She had the power to either destroy or mold me into a greater human being. Many years later, I’m an educator. A concern educator, who knows how much power I have in a classroom and I both respect and revere that power.