Printer-friendly version
Beth Hammett found out the hard way that most good things in education hang on giving people second chances.
“I wanted to tell you something,” the student said. “I’ve been in prison, and ...” I held up my hand for him to stop and then replied, “I don’t want to know why you’ve been there. Let’s move forward with a fresh start.”
It’s not uncommon for students in my developmental college English courses to have been in jail or in prison. However, I’ve discovered that I prefer not to know the reasons behind these legal problems. I just want to help these students improve their lives through education, and this is why I teach.
Photo credit: Michael Stravato
Developmental courses are filled with students of various ages, from 18 year olds to senior citizens. They usually have one thing in common—scoring below college level on entrance exams. The challenges for first-year, developmental students are overwhelming. They are often insecure about attending college. Some have language barriers and many lack study skills.
Others tell stories of being single parents or caregivers for spouses and parents. There are students who are mentally and physically disabled as well as military veterans. There are also fresh-out-of-high school teenagers who feel they don’t belong in developmental courses because they are recent graduates. It’s a motley crew of apprehensive students who need to bond to make it through the hectic semester.
In developmental classrooms, it’s normal to see adults with 3rd- or 4th-grade skills sitting next to 12th grade-level students. Many people cannot understand how these adults passed their high school exit exams and received diplomas when they clearly cannot read or write properly. Yet developmental classes are full of them. What is important is that none of them are pre-judged as illiterate or un-teachable. By extending an extra lifeline, developmental teachers offer these students second, third or fourth chances in their lives and careers.
I suppose having “walked a mile in their footsteps” helps when it comes to overlooking the backgrounds of developmental students. I, too, was an older adult student at the age of 30 when I returned to community college. My past was littered with mistakes—two failed marriages, child custody and support troubles, and numerous low-paying jobs. With a household full of children, my minimum wage job was not enough to sustain us. Yet I was scared to return to college for another try.
When I finally stepped back into the college classroom, no one questioned me about my past. As I juggled the roles of mother, wife, student and worker, I made it through the first semester by spending countless hours with tutors. Then, I finished a second semester. Suddenly, education was a golden opportunity to start over; it meant a new future.
I made excellent grades. My life changed. Education gave me the confidence to apply for scholarships, and it led to invitations from honor societies. This encouraged me to do better each semester and to set new goals. As I moved forward, I discovered friends with similar interests. Not once did they ask me about my past. They judged me solely on my accomplishments. Education gave me a new life.
After I graduated from a four-year university and got my first teaching job, I decided to pursue a master’s degree. I wanted to teach at a community college and give students with backgrounds similar to mine opportunities to better themselves. Every semester, I encounter people whose lives are in turmoil, and I tell them “education will change your goals and dreams.”
Many of these students contact me or return to visit 5 or 10 years later to tell me how education did make a difference. I don’t want to know why it took them so long to enroll in college. I just want to make sure they have all the chances they need to build a better future.
— Beth Hammett
Hammett is an associate professor of English at the College of the Mainland in Texas City, Texas.
Share Your Story What motivates you to get up each morning and serve students in our nation’s schools? We want to hear from you. Send your submission for the “Why I Teach” column to editor@teachingtolerance.org.
Download the PDF of this article here.
Comments
Kudos to you, Beth Hammett.
Kudos to you, Beth Hammett. I believe in second chances as well. My adult son, now 29, is extremely responsible, earning "big, gooey bucks" in a respectable job he loves, and is a wonderful, caring and giving person. The years from when he was 13 until he was 27 were fraught with bad choices, and I lived in fear of learning he was either dead or had been arrested. But I believed in him, and I, along with other people who cared about him, gave him more chances, and he graduated from college and has "figured it out" - at least to the degree that any of us do. As an educator myself, and a mom, I know that second chances (and sometimes third and fourth . . .) helps people know that someone(s) believes in them. The morale? Don't ever give up on ourselves or on those we care about.
I teach at a culinary academy
I teach at a culinary academy in the Bay area of California, we specialize in working with youth ages 15-25. We teach them a vocational skill from job, life, and culinary skills. We teach these at-risk transitionally aged youth to be someone and to forget all those who have told them that they wouldn’t get anywhere in life. I believe the students we get here are of the higher level of mental health or at-risk but we ignore all that and we focus on the important things, like "you come first" and " it’s my turn to take time for myself and do what I love" importantly forgetting all the negative in life and all the issues you deal with in everyday life and focus on the positive the fun you have and embrace each moment through cooking and in the kitchen and through the food you create that puts a smile on your face. Teaching these youths day after day never gets old, I enjoy and learn through it at every time i get. I have seen the severe mental health issues, the gangs, the drug and alcohol abuse, the physical, mental and emotional abuse, the jail and probation youths...and in the end none of that matters you become a new person when you walk into my kitchen and transform into someone you want to be in life and you live it!
Peace and Love,
Chef Carlos of California
I wish we had more teachers
I wish we had more teachers like all of you guys. CONGRATS!!!!
Hammett's article
Hammett's article contradicted her own performance in the classroom. When her students share something of their past, she essentially tells them to "talk to the hand," yet when she goes on to explain her own position, she shares her background in detail.
It's a wonderful example of how we learn and make sense of the world. We use our past knowledge to make sense of new infomation. To forbid students to share past experience is to deny students' unique perspectives and growth.
Most educators can get behind "moving forward," but tapping into prior knowledge is essential, even if that knowledge came within the context of prison.
My first teaching position
My first teaching position was in a drop-out recovery program for teenagers many of which had spent time in jail, were in gangs, were addicts or simply skipped school out of boredom or fear. As much as I didn't judge my student's passed, I also did not deny it and allowed them to talk and often write about it. Their personal stories became reasons many of them