Oops!

My mouth quite often gets me into trouble. In fact, using this topic alone, I could probably blog a whole month of daily posts. It distresses me, too, because many times I feel deeply saddened by the outcome my verbal vomit produces (sometimes it is even penned puke - you would think that in the process of writing something down, I would realize that it isn't the best thing to say, but, alas, the knee-jerk tendency even occurs when I am writing).

A few days ago, I found myself re-hashing one of these incidents to my ES (I don't even know what brought on the conversation, although I know Amy's blog post about teaching prompted tonight's thoughts). It was yet another of those oops moments, where I instantly regret having spoken without really thinking. But, at the same time, I meant every word I said and only regretted the fact that someone may have been offended or hurt by it.

Back when I was teaching high school, I had my fair share of difficult students. Oftentimes, I found that the difficult students were the ones I remembered fondly at the end of the year. In the midst of the behavior I would feel supremely irked, but over time, I would come to appreciate that student and realize that those irksome moments were all part and parcel of the individual.

Brad J. was just such a student. He was a sophomore who was delegated to my freshman English class because he had failed freshman English at the school where he had previously attended (even his school switch had been prompted by behavior, I believe). He was fearless and outspoken. Crossing teachers seemed to be a challenge he eagerly anticipated. Quite often he would question my authority in front of the entire class. (I wonder if he has any regrets??)

By the end of the school year, I thought of Brad with a mix of frustration and deep fondness. You see, he was as colorful as he was defiant. One day, we were reading a play aloud in class. He raised his hand to volunteer for a particular part and I (what was I thinking?) agreed. In his usual way, drawing all attention to himself, he read with more expression and enthusiasm (and probably a fair amount of sarcasm)than I had ever heard before. The class was in stitches. I laughed along with the students. It was a day of teaching I would happily live over if I could. It was a day I wish I had been recording. Would I find it as funny in re-play? I don't know, but it was such a clear example of this student's vibrant personality and character.

Several years later, I was in counselling, struggling with a troubled marriage. I went for marital sessions, individual sessions and group therapy. (With all that counselling, I should be entirely fixed now, right? HA!) One day, as I sat waiting for my appointment, I was passing the time with the only other individual in the waiting room (I believe she was a member of my group). Suddenly, Brad J. bounded up the stairs of the entryway, without really even looking at me, and knocked on my counsellor's door. A moment later, a young woman entered and took a seat in the waiting area. I resumed conversation with my friend and commented on the appearance of Brad (I think we were both a bit stunned that someone could just go up to the door, knock and be allowed to enter, in the midst of the counsellor's schedule).

I began telling my friend about my knowledge of and experiences with Brad. I explained that he gave me quite a bit of difficulty in my classroom but that I had come to really like him. I told her about how colorful he was. I may have even told her about the day where he stole the show!

Our conversation only lasted a few minutes. Brad exited the counsellor's office and, with the young woman now trailing away with him, left the building. Immediately, I realized the young woman was probably "his young woman." She would, no doubt, recount to him my every word. I hadn't said anything rude about Brad, but I hadn't expected my words to be repeated to him.

I mentioned it in my appointment and the counsellor explained that Brad was hired to do some construction work. This was one of my more harmless moments. Knowing Brad, he probably sloughed off my teacher's opinion of him. Perhaps, he even wanted the girl to think he was a troubled student who both harassed and humored his teachers. For me, it was just one more time when I should have learned to think before I speak. Unfortunately, that lesson just keeps coming up again and again.