The power of one teacher’s observation changed my father’s life–and thus mine.
Benny was a harum-scarum young man in the 1940s. The eldest child in a family of four with a dad who often wandered off, he was raised in a poor family supported by my grandmother’s job in the tool room at a local defense plant.
The family took in boarders, my dad slept on the couch, and he hitchhiked to get around. A skinny kid with an attitude, Benny smoked, played craps, often was hungry, and frequently sought “an angle,” to get by.
A smart-aleck or something else?
I’m sure many of the adults he encountered thought him a smart-aleck, but one teacher saw something else.
One day in a typesetting class in high school, the teacher pulled him aside. “What are you going to do when you graduate, Benny?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Get a job. Maybe I’ll get a job as a typesetter. I’m at good at it.’
“No.” The teacher declared. “You should not get a job as a typesetter. You’re a smart kid. You need to go to college.”
College?
Smart?
These were new concepts and the mere suggestion opened a window in Benny’s mind.
No one in his family had gone to college.
No one had any money for college. What a ridiculous idea.
Or was it?
But with that idea percolating, Benny looked at his classes differently and applied himself. He started saving money and talked to a counselor about how to pay for college. My grandmother, who loved and craved education with a passion, supported him as best she could.
He applied for a Naval ROTC scholarship and when told he’d get one, he asked to leave California to attend the University of Michigan.
The Navy demurred, suggesting a college closer to home and less expensive?
UC Berkeley accepted him. Benny made plans to go. His mother was thrilled.
But a month before classes started, Benny got the bad news. No funding. No money for him to go to school.
The idea stuck
The idea of college set fire to his ambitious mind. He knew he could be more than just a typesetter now; he had caught the vision.
Benny switched to UCLA, just over the hills from the family home. My grandmother scraped together enough money to pay for car fare the first year.
A quirky guy, Benny filled his academic life with ups and downs, extravagant stories of jobs worked and lost, an old car that ran on a paper clip.
But the poor young man recognized college could help him become someone the like of which he’d only seen in the movies. (Charles Boyer, perhaps?)
UCLA changed his life. It gave him a life. He met my mother there and suddenly the world opened to him.
“You’re a smart kid.”
Someone recognized his potential and told him. That brief exchange changed everything for my father.
And for me.
One person. One observation. One different life.
Who can you encourage today?
Tweetables
How one teacher’s comment changed an entire family’s life. Click to Tweet
Tell a kid what they’re good at it. Someone will thank you. Click to Tweet
The power of observation gives me life. Click to Tweet
Jamie Chavez says
Beautiful!
Kimmer says
Thanks for writing that. You made me smile.
Lori Benton says
Yes, beautiful. Thanks for sharing Benny’s story.