Mrs. Mossey
I hated school. I’m so glad I quit. I wish I had left even earlier. But, sure, there were a few good things that happened during my school career, too.
I want to tell you about one of the three most important teachers I ever had. Her name was Alice Mossey. At NCCS high school in Champlain, NY, she managed the study hall (really just a glorified bouncer, as far as I could tell), ran the school play, and served as a substitute at times. I think that’s all. She never actually taught a class I was in.
I didn’t think much of Mrs. Mossey at first. Like a lot of high school staffers, she seemed grumpy as a bosun, most of the time. Comes from years of herding wild kids from place to place, I guess. I personally had no run-ins with her, because I liked study hall. It was an opportunity to sit quietly and work on my Dungeons and Dragons world, or design some new bit of software. I doubt Mrs. Mossey thought much of me, either, until she read a letter to the editor I wrote to the local paper…
(Press Republican, Plattburgh NY, Oct 9 1981)
Reading this today, I’m not happy with the tone of my rhetoric or the quality of my argument. What lay behind the letter is a simple idea: liberation. I wanted to be free. I wanted everyone to be free. But mostly me. (Actually, at the time I was more free than most. I lived alone in a motel room in North Hero, Vermont.)
When Mrs. Mossey read this letter, she seemed to see past its anger. When next she spoke to me, at study hall, she used a different voice. Softer and more respectful than I had heard before. She spoke to me as one adult to another. Mrs. Mossey had a favor to ask.
She wanted me to do the sound for the school play.
The Day I Became an Adult
There must have been many transformative moments in my childhood education. The one I remember most is this final one.
When Mrs. Mossey asked me to do the sound, it was a challenge, because the sounds were all out of order on the reel-to-reel tape. There were no instructions about which sounds were to be played when. There were no instructions at all.
I remember being stuck for a moment. I almost gave up. Then a new part of my mind woke up and took over: the pathfinder. The idea came to me that I should get a script and mark every place that needed a sound. Then I would create an index of the sounds on the tape and make a plan for winding and rewinding the tape. Finally, I would find out what cues would let me know when to play each sound.
Now, this sounds simple to you, I’m sure. If you are an adult, too, you’re thinking “that’s bloody obvious.” But at the time I felt infused with wonder and confidence. I had made a PLAN from NOTHING. I created order from chaos, on purpose. On demand. I did it and knew that I had done it. Later when I became a professional consultant (someone who drops into murky situations and makes sense of them for money) I would have that same experience, and I would connect to that memory of organizing the sound for the school play at NCCS in 1981.
It was my intellectual baptism.
What Mrs. Mossey did was so simple! Such a small part of her career! I probably spent less than 30 minutes in direct interaction with her, my entire time at NCCS. What makes her special is that those few interactions were like precious water to a boy dying of thirst. She offered respect.
Did Alice Mossey look into my soul and know how to talk to me and what challenge I needed at that exact moment in my life? I don’t know. Maybe it was an accident. Still, I feel that I’m in her debt. There are a few teachers I wish I could go back and thank. I found Mrs. Mossey. My eighth grade English teacher, Kaye Creveling, unfortunately died before I thought to go back and thank her. The few other teachers I want to thank I have not been able to find. (Where are you Mr. Bedrin of Fayston Elementary, 1977? Mr. Izor of Harwood Union High, 1978? Mr. McManus and Mr. Callisti of NCCS, 1981?)
It ever-amazes me the ways in which someone can have a tremendous, life-shifting impact upon one’s life, quite possibly without even knowing they have. I bet Mrs. Mossey had no clue as to the tremendous effect this little invitation to assist her would have upon your journey into self!
When I was about 19 a fella approached me to tell me I had saved his life some years before. I looked at him, perplexed. I wasn’t even sure who he was, though he looked perhaps vaguely familiar. Upon further explanation it was revealed that we had attended the same high school, though we’d never been in the same class. It was a high school of over 3,000 students, so it is no surprise I barely recognized him those years later.
Anyhow, the story he shared was as follows:
On sunny afternoon as I walked past him on the street outside the school, I smiled and said hello.
He had been on his way home, intent on suicide, because he felt ‘invisible’ and ‘like nothing’ in the world. He described how he had it all planned out, and had already taken the steps of preparing for the act.
However, as he put it, “a pretty, popular girl smiled at me, said hello. Obviously I wasn’t as invisible as I had thought. I figured maybe I’d been a little too quick to think of killing myself. Maybe I should stick around a little while and see what else I was wrong about.”
I was 14 at the time it had happened. I had no clue I was affecting the life of another in any significant way. I was merely being friendly, kind, as I passed another in the street. Little did I know that something as simple as a smile and hello could do more than make someone feel a bit more cheerful for a moment.
Hearing his revelation of the impact that simple, almost automatic act had upon his life that day shook me to the core. It changed me forever. What power to know that it is possible to have life-changing impact (world-changing even! Who knows what impact he or others whose lives he has touched will have upon the world, now that he decided to stick around) even when we aren’t conscious that we are doing so. It made each action I took, every word that I spoke, seem tremendously important. It made me realize that perhaps one should contemplate one’s words and actions more deeply than I’d ever before considered.
However, the story doesn’t end there. See, in his sharing with me the impact I had upon his life those years ago, he gave me a gift in return: He introduced me to that path that would shape my own career…the importance of living the examined life.
I believe your story of Mrs. Mossey is evidence of the same kind of almost magical power we all wield, but far too often fail to consider: the very ways in which we speak to others can transform lives, and the very world around us. Think how powerful that is, if we apply it with conscious intent! Do you believe Mrs. Mossey was conscious of what she did that day? Had she read the piece in the paper and thought, “I had better recognize this young man, perhaps it will have an effect upon him”? Or do you think perhaps she read it and thought, “Here’s a fella whose got something going on in that noggin of his, perhaps he can figure out the solution to this problem.”? The first would imply that she applied conscious intent to lend a young man a helping hand. The latter that she saw someone who could help her out.
[James' Reply: She just emailed me this "I must admit, I chose you because you made me feel confident that you could do it." So, there you go.]
Does it matter what her motive was, if the outcome was the same? Perhaps not. However – just think of the power she held. Granted, the outcome was the same. But – if one could recognize that power, and begin to use it consciously to inspire others – WOW!
I bet Mrs. Mossey’s tickled to learn of the gift she gave you. In fact, I bet she’s more than tickled – I bet she’s deeply moved, much as I was when the young fella came to me to share that I had unknowingly saved his life that beautiful day. I’m so glad you’ve given her the gift of letting her know these things, and that you’ve done so in such a public way, so that others can see the power simple acts of kindness or respect can have in the world.
[James' Reply: For those of you who don't know, Laura is the author of The McGraw-Hill Homeschooling Companion. Thanks Laura.]
Comment by Laura Saba — January 5, 2009 @ 1:48 pm
You get like 50k gold stars if you find those teachers.
Comment by Boo — January 17, 2009 @ 8:46 pm
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Pingback by One of the Wolves » Buccaneer Scholar — January 24, 2009 @ 9:02 pm
I’d like to be one of those teachers for someone. I’m volunteering as a mentor to a FIRST Robotics team but it almost doesn’t seem enough. I try to do what I can in my current job, but the typical customer doesn’t seem to have the mindset or the pacing for the true socratic/dyadic exploration/inquiry. And I don’t, either, in that context: ultimately, my job there is to sell stuff. I usually settle for short infodumps.
[James' Reply: Why do you stay in that job? What do you do in your off-hours?]
Comment by Michael M. Butler — January 29, 2009 @ 11:31 am
Hello, I can’t understand how to add your blog ( http://www.buccaneerscholar.com ) in my rss reader
[James' Reply: I think you'll find the RSS feed on the home page of the blog. Go there by following the How I Learn Stuff Blog link.]
Comment by pallisespopay — January 30, 2009 @ 7:20 am