Date: Thu, 23 Jan 1997 15:09:27 -0500 (EST)
Subject: Random Thought: You Never Know.

You never know. Things happen in the strangest places in the strangest ways when you are least expecting it. It's about 5:00 a.m. I desperately want to meander the dark streets, but because of a silly pain in my neck, my lovely and controlling DI, has ordered me "restricted to barracks." So, here I am, sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee, both restlessly and fulfillingly thinking about a telephone call I got late last night.
I was lying on the couch was reading student journals as I do every Wednesday. The telephone in the kitchen rang. I didn't pay any attention to it. I was glued to each word of a journal in which a student was pouring her heart out about fearing she would be disowned and kicked out of the house by her parents when they learned she was pregnant, and about a boy friend who wasn't wild about the sudden prospects of being a future father. It was only a few minutes earlier that I was reading a journal from a student in another class in which a student was braggin about getting drunk every night saying she was having the time of her life when in fact other entries revealed that she was running away from life.
I vaguely heard Susan say, "Just a minute." She came into the spare bedroom room that doubles as a study with a curious "who would call this late" look and handed me the phone. I thought it was a student who was going to explain why he or she could be in class during the skit presentations. It wasn't.
The caller was a student whom I'll call Robert. Robert hadn't been in class for a few days. There was a deep sadness in his voice. I knew why. He had called me two days ago to tell me that his father had died and that he would not be in class for a few days. I told him to take as much time as he needed. Last night he called to tell me that he didn't feel he could return to class and was dropping out of school for the quarter, and yet in his time of great loss expressed concerned about how his withdrawal from school would affect the two other members of his triad--strangers whom he had only met two weeks earlier--since he wasn't able to do his part of the triad's skit. I expressed my condolences, supported his decision, told him that I always had an ear and shoulder if he needed an extra one, explained that I would see to it that his triad members wouldn't in any way be hurt even if I had to play one of the characters they had created for the skit, and told him that I hoped I would see him in one of my future classes. He assured me I would. Thinking that the conversation was over, I was about to pull the receiver from my ear, lay it on the cocktail table, and go back to reading journals. It wasn't.
"But, that's not why I really called," he suddenly went on. I jolted my attention back to his voice. "I knew the people at student services had called you this afternoon. There was something I wanted to say to you personally. I wanted to say, thank you, for what you did.
He caught me by surprise. I hadn't spoken but a few words to him during those introductory days of our "getting to know ya" exercises. I told that I didn't understand. "What did I do?" I asked.
"That first day, you told us about yourself and especially about how and why you stopped biting your nails and the pact you made with that student."
Robert told me how one of the students, the only one to drop the course, thought I was "soft and sappy."
"I told him," Robert quietly and slowly said, "I was impressed that you had taken the risk of respecting us as young adults and sharing yourself..... I'm 24 with a little more experience that most of the other students. I'm--I was--a nasty nail biter, too. But, you so impressed me that I decided right then and there that if you could stop after almost fifty years of nail biting, with 30 years on you, I could do the same. So, I made a silent pact with you. I just want you to know that I haven't bitten my nails in two weeks. It's the hardest thing I've ever done in my life."
"I'm proud for you," I sincerely replied.
Then, he hit me with it. "I just want to tell you that I ordinarily would have my fingers in my mouth and still have them there in hard times like this if it wasn't for you. Doing something as hard as stopping my nail biting has made it easier for me to deal with my father's passing. And I know now I can overcome other stuff I believed I wasn't been able 'til now. I told my fiancee that I have a new motto in life like the motto we made after we all got up and sang alone. It's: 'I stopped biting my nails; I can kick ass!' Well, I just wanted you to know you're doing very important things. Goodbye."
I felt a lump gathering in my throat. About all I could muster was a raspy "Thank you. I truly appreciate that, and I want you to know that you're doing very important things yourself. Take care, and I'll see you in class in a couple of months. Keep clean." And, we both hung up.
I took a deep breath, put down on the couch the journal I was holding, thought, "you never know," and wrote this crude poem on the pad I was using for make notes about the journals. I'd like to share it with you. I call it "The ONLY WAY"

The only way I won't make a mistake when I share myself
	is not to share.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I think aloud
	is not to feel.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I try to do something
	is not to do anything.
The only way I won't make a mistake supporting and encouraging a student
	is not to be supportive and encouraging.
The only way I won't make a mistake loving each student
	is not to love.
The only way I won't make a mistake believing in each student
	is not to believe.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I speak out
	is not to speak.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I see and listen
	is not to look and hear.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I take a stand
	is not to take a stand.
The only way I won't make a mistake trusting a student
	is not to trust.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I put myself in the spotlight
	is not to out from the shadows.
The only way I won't make a mistake risking something new,
	is not to take risks.
The only way I won't make a mistake when I teach 
	is not to teach.
The only way I won't make a mistake reaching out to a student
	is not to reach out.
The only way I won't make a mistake experimenting with a new method
or technique or technology 
	is not to experiment.

The only way I won't make a mistake trying to change
	is to accept paralysis.
The only way I won't make a mistake trying to grow and develop
	is to accept atrophy.
The only way I won't make any mistakes 
	is to accept safety.
The only way I won't make any mistakes trying to make a difference
	is to remain indifferent.
The only way I won't make any mistakes
	is to believe there's nothing to learn from making a mistake.
The only way I won't make any mistakes
	is to be fearful of making mistakes.
The only way I won't make any mistakes
	is to accept slavery, and do and think 
	what others tell me to do and think.

The only way I won't make any mistakes 
	is not to do anything.
The only way I won't make any mistakes 
	is not to live.

The only way to make a mistake
	is to believe that each "only way" is not a mistake.