Having been officially employed to on August 3, 1987 left very few days for mental preparation for the beginning of the school year. That was the only form of preparation I could do, as I did not even know to what grade I would be assigned. At that point, I was just thrilled to have a job.
I certified for and wanted to teach at Horace Maynard High School, but God intervened. There wasn’t an opening for a janitor at the high school when I was employed. Looking back at that time in my life, I was probably not mature enough to have been successful as a high school teacher. An acquaintance of mine asked me where I would be teaching. When I told him at Luttrell, he said something to the effect that I’d be lucky to survive, that the kids were so mean they’d probably throw blackboard erasers at me. I took him with the proverbial “grain of salt”, for I knew practically nothing of the Luttrell community, though I’d lived in Union County all my life.
I’d only been inside Luttrell Elementary one time in my life. I was working on the Summer Youth Employment Program one summer, and Esco Vaughn had me drive his car over there to pick up the time sheets.
After the initial inservice sessions that began the school year, the day finally arrived for me to walk inside Luttrell Elementary School as a bona fide member of the faculty. Try to get a mental picture of this. I had just turned twenty-two years old, had a face full of acne, and was dressed in polyester pants. I weighed 120 pounds, including the contents of my pockets. I’ve talked with a few of my colleagues who were on staff when I began my teaching career, and I think if there had been a survey on my chances of success, it would have been doubtful.
Both Tommy Shoffner and I were employed for Luttrell at the same time. Tommy wanted to teach kindergarten, and since my teaching certification was for secondary grades 7-12, I wanted to teach the highest available grade. Two grades were available—third and sixth. I heard through the grape vine that a member of the faculty put in a good word for Tommy to be placed in third grade, and I definitely preferred sixth. The principal did the exact opposite. The principal would probably be surprised to know that he was an instrument of God’s will in that decision. That sixth grade proved to be a difficult group to handle, and Tommy’s personality was much better suited to that situation. At the time, that group would probably have roasted me on a platter.
I was assigned to third grade with Diane Jessee. “Jess” had taught for several years and was at one time the principal of Sharps Chapel Elementary School. Ms. Jessee did her best to help me be successful, and without her guidance I might not have remained in education. College is good at teaching theories and facts, but it is actual practice that makes or breaks a teacher. Ms. Jessee showed me the basics, such as scheduling and setting up reading groups.
My first classroom was in the newest addition to the building, completed only three year previously. It was really two smaller rooms with the divider open, so my classroom was a fairly large room with two of everything (entrances, blackboards, sinks, bathrooms). The furniture was new. My room and Ms. Jessee’s room across the hall were exact replicas of each other.
The first three days were interesting. It seems my group had never had a male teacher—they didn’t quite know how to take me. They were perfectly silent and cooperative the first little while. About the middle of the third day they “broke loose”. It seems they had somehow after those first few days decided to treat me like a substitute. There was for a few days a breakdown in discipline. One day I was asking questions about a lesson, going down the seating chart. I came across a student who did not answer to the name on the chart that corresponded with where she was sitting. That was the start of regaining control of the classroom. The teacher voice came out as every student was immediately re-situated to their assigned seats.
There were some parents who were concerned about my lack of discipline and perceived teaching potential. Admittedly, I had underestimated what academic capability third graders possess. Some parents went to the principal and had their children reassigned to Ms. Jessee’s room. Others would have liked to have done so, but not every student could be moved.
At this point, Ms. Jessee came forward with some valuable advice. “Mincey, if you don’t get control of these kids, they’re going to run you off. The way you get a handle on them is to keep them so busy they don’t have time to look up.” Sounded good to me. That very moment I purposed to make sure that I didn’t have a room full of idle students who wanted to turn the classroom into their devil’s workshop.
Just before this point of transition, one of Ms. Jessee’s students decided he wanted to transfer to my room. He had heard how much easier it was in my room that in Ms. Jessee’s. Unfortunately for him, he transferred on the day which began my ramped up program of study. One day he wagged his head and said aloud, “I wish I’d stayed in Ms. Jessee’s room!” I knew at that moment that my chances of success as a teacher had just improved.
I think back on that time as bittersweet. Third graders are by nature of their time in life very loving and a joy to be around. There are mistakes I made that I regret, some that seem cruel even to me as I reflect on them.
It will have been thirty-six years this fall since my first day as a classroom teacher. Based upon my experiences, as an administrator I can understand how some teachers, even experienced teachers, make some of the mistakes they do. The advice I would offer teachers, especially those new to the profession, are the words a lady who could in other circumstances have been my mother-in-law told me: “Remember, every child is some mother’s little darling.” Somebody somewhere loves every child, and either by choice or default, teachers are entrusted with these valuable little humans for a portion of their developing life. May God grant that they all, both teachers and students, emerge greater from the encounter.
Dear Reader, may your today be better than your yesterday but not as good as your tomorrow. I leave you with this thought from my email world.

There was a time that being sent to the principal's office
was nothing compared to the
fate that awaited the student at home.