Semester Observations

Classes concluded Thursday night.  I now have three months of “free” evenings before a new group of guys start in the IT program.  The current group goes back Monday for all computer classes.  There is an English and Philosophy class for the regular college students so I’ll still have about twenty-five guys to help for the next eight weeks, but the constant cries of seventy guys needing help is over, for a short while at least.   Now, I can return my focus to my writing, the adult basic ed class, the writing program I lead, and “House”. 

I want to share a couple of observations from this semester, working with these men.  First, from Ms. “T”, the computer teacher (she’s in the video with me).  On our last day of class with her, the guys surprised her with a card to thank her for everything she did for them.  She choked up and began to cry as she read their words and thanked them for reminding her why she decided to be a teacher.  After class was over she and I spoke a few minutes.

“These guys treated me with more respect than any class I’ve taught at the college.  I’ve never felt so moved by a group of students.”

That evening we had our last English class with Dr. “Y”.  Before going to the door to shake each man’s hand on the way out, she spoke to the class.  Choking up, she said, “I was apprehensive when I first came here.  I didn’t know what to expect.  You have taught me so much.  Nothing in your past will limit your future.  I am just so happy to have had this opportunity.”

Don’t hear that very often from teachers do you.  The simple fact is, they knew these men hungered for education.  They knew they were making a difference. 

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday as guys received their final papers and grades they’d come in the cut and thank me. 

Lil D – “You’re great Larry, I got an A!”

Dre – “I never thought I could do it.”

Todd – “You did more for me, believed more in me, than my dad.”

Seven ½ mile – “Thanks for not letting me quit.”

No teeth – “My mom can’t believe I made a ‘B’ in English.  I told her she needed to meet you.”

Two guys made me a pizza.  I received a bag of chips and a soda, then a pie.  The “love”, the appreciation, poured forth to the point that I was embarrassed. 

As I sat there reminding myself what a mess I made of my own life, thought about dreams that were shattered, relationships that lay in ruin, I caught myself thinking about Paul’s words:  “In all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, according to His purposes.”

I have been an actor in my own drama watching how the deadly sins of pride and greed can utterly destroy you and I’ve been give a front row seat in the stories of men who likewise failed, yet somehow began working to overcome their circumstances with my help and encouragement.

I learned this week that I mattered, and that I was needed, and that there was a reason to believe.  All the “good works” I did in my former life never led anyone to sincerely thank me the way these guys did.  No assignment I ever undertook at work, or at church, or doing volunteer service, had such an effect, such an impact as what I’ve done with these guys.

They have also helped me begin to put to rest so much pain and disappointment I feel over the divorce and the abandonment by family and friends.

Paul wrote so many wonderful things – most while he was in prison.   I thought about his call to be joyful in our trials.  I also thought about his words that we need to focus on the big picture – God – not the petty, old, sinful stuff.

I’ve learned a lot this semester with these guys.  I wasn’t as good a man outside as I liked to tell myself.   I’m a better, more giving man for enduring this.  These guys taught me that.  Perhaps someday I’ll get the courage to tell my ex “it’s OK.  You did what you thought was best and I love you for that.”  As Dr. Y told me on the way out the door, “I never thought I’d learn so much in prison.”