There are certain unwritten "dos and dont's" about being a "professional" teacher. "Do" enforce rules fairly and equally; for instance don't write passes to let students out of class fourth hour because they are hungry and you have snacks. "Don't" play favorites, meaning don't allow some students priveleges others can't have-like keeping their gym clothes and hats in your desk. "Do" stay on topic-if students try to distract you by, say, asking you to call them "Nighthawk" don't let it lead to a side discussion starting with "What, why do you want to be called Nighthawk?" "Don't" let students eat in class, espescially not cupcakes you baked them. "Do" dress professionally -cover your new tattoo so none of your students yell "skank!!!" when your boss walks by.
I doubt I am remembered as much of a professional at Willard High School, and that's fine. Professionalism was never why I was there, I was there because I liked working with kids, and it is one of those kids that has left a hole in my heart tonight. As I sit here with tears running down my face, remembering, it is making those exceptions for three years that allowed me to know Steeler Seaburn. And I am so thankful.
Anyone who knew me in any of my final three years at Willard probably knew Steeler, too. And by anyone, I mean my neighbor knew him from my stories and a football game she went to; my kids knew him from the stories; my Facebook friends knew him (in case your wondering about this status: "Sorry Mom, I'm coming out of the closet"-Steeler's handiwork); Ed knew him (Steeler would check if he noticed I wasn't eating); a couple of unfortunate males I briefly texted knew him (my phone didn't always lock, and even when it did-he knew the code) My final year there I think he spent more time in my room than any other student, and I've kept in contact with him in the months since I left Willard. I was going shopping for his graduation gift later this week.
By the time I first met Steeler, as a freshman in my seventh hour class, I was a pretty "seasoned" teacher. There wasn't much I hadn't seen, but I was slowly being transitioned from a Health teacher to English and I was becoming less and less happy at Willard as I became stronger and stronger in my recovery. Steeler was one of a group of boys who managed to find themselves sentenced to three years of English with me, three years in which I changed dramatically as a person while watching them grow up. Three years is a long time, espescially in the life of a teenager. Three years shows you who a person is, what kind of heart they have and I have met few people who had a better or kinder heart than Steeler Seaburn.
When you are an English teacher it is a given that many kids won't like your class and English was not Steeler's subject. And his personality was the very defintion of classroom distratction. He was loud, hysterically funny, and increasingly inappropriate. Between the books he didn't want to read and the papers he hated writing, and the mother who wanted him to do both, it would have been very easy for him to hate me. But he didn't. Instead he asked for help, and I helped him with the papers, the assignments, the books, and eventually a little of everything else. And he helped me. When someone is in your room, in your desk, in your life, they learn about you. Steeler knew me, he knew my kids, he knew the struggles and the ugly rumors that last year; yet he stood by me, family is like that.
I could fill pages of blog with funny stories from the years I knew him because he was truly one of the most hilarious people I've ever known. I used to tell him he WAS Elf, from the movie-a movie I had never even seen until he announced (one day in my class for no real apparent reason) "the best way to spread Christmas cheer is by singing loud for all to hear." But I don't think I'm talented enough to capture who he really was in memories typed in a blog. It's too two dimensional for one of the most 3D people I've ever known. Anyone who has ever known him has probably laughed, or blushed, or both at something he said to them. And anyone who has ever known him has probably been touched by something he did. And it is those somethings that are ripping my heart out tonight. I know a lot of funny people but I don't know that many who were as thoughtful as Steeler Seaburn.
I'm thinking tonight of his mother, we used to have our yearly conferences in October (these days I see her sometimes at the Mall), and can't even imagine what she is feeling. I don't know that I have enough prayers but every one I have is going out to her on the loss of her son. It is selfish, I know to grieve, as he is in a better place, but tonight I am feeling that the world is an emptier place without the boy she shared with me for several memorable years. On my birthday (which I do not advertise on Facebook) I got a Happy Birthday text from Steeler. I have no idea how or why he remembered my birthday but he did, although I guess I shouldn't be surprised. That was Steeler. In the days before I left WHS, I told him "everyone moves on no one will even remember I worked here before long"; his answer was "you will always be our second mom." It was an honor, Steeler. Thank you.
