After nearly thirty years (1971-1999), at the time I retired, some things had changed and some things were sadly still the same.

At my first faculty meeting, on the west side in September, 1971, the principal, the assistant principals, the disciplinarian and all the teachers complained about the high rate of absenteeism, the excessive number of tardies, and the amount of traffic in the halls long after the bell. At my last faculty meeting, this time on the south side, twenty-eight years later, people were still complaining about the exact same things. They were all suggesting, demanding actually, for the umpteenth time, implementation of the same old policies that had consistently failed for thirty years.

But other things had changed. When I started teaching, most of my students had either been born in the South or their parents had been born in the South. And many of my students still went home, down south, for all or part of the summer. Actually, they sometimes didn’t get back until mid-September. Their lame excuse was that schools started later down south. When they were in the north they were busy trying to assimilate, which was more important to them than learning to be a better reader. They knew that they were “country” and they were trying desperately to become Chicagoans. The biggest insult was to call someone “country”. In the seventies, during the holidays, I often had the students talk or write about southern traditions such as food or raccoon hunting. One year I had the young women compare their mothers’ sweet potato pie recipes. One girl trumped everybody by bringing me a half of a pie. It was delicious. Of course, she got the best grade for the assignment.

When I left, nobody was from the South and the connections which had been so vibrant were literally dying off. One final irony, in the nineties, newspapers were reporting that successful northern inner city students who went back down south to go to college never came back north.
When I started teaching, students still read the daily newspaper. So in reading or English I was forced to say, “Alright put the paper away; it’s time to do some work.” The two or three in the back, who had brought the paper with them mainly as protection from boredom, quickly proceeded to go to sleep. One time, I came in a minute or two late and all the young men were gathered around the class’s best reader and he was reading the sports section to the group, but mainly to Marcus, the star of the varsity basketball team. The team had won the night before, surprising everyone, and the news had made the Sun-Times. After that, reading the sports section to Marcus became an accepted part of class. The team was on a winning streak, and because they had been perceived to be losers from the get go, the Sun-Times sports writer had labeled them the “Cinderella Team.” So twice a week, the morning after the game, we would all take ten minutes to read the paper and another ten minutes to discuss the game.

Marcus couldn’t read, but he was a phenomenal basketball player. He was short, skinny and not very aggressive, except on the court,like the rest of the team. But somehow, they were able to win most games all season right up to the finals. When the season ended, the class lost some of its pizzazz; sadly it was back to business as usual. After awhile, Marcus stopped coming to school. I later learned that even at the famous Big 10 schools, well into the sixties, it was normal for seniors not to come back to school after the last game. Word around school was that Marcus was in the park shooting baskets for quarters and then a little later, nothing.

When I left teaching the kids didn’t read the newspaper, didn’t bring it to school and didn’t steal it off their neighbor’s front stoop.
When I started teaching I had to guard my own newspaper. Not only would students who would never steal a book, steal my paper; but teachers, my friends and colleagues, who would never steal a book, would steal the crossword, the sports section, the horoscope, demand just a quick peek at Ann Landers or at Friday’s movie section. The only part of the newspaper which was safe was the actual news section. When I left teaching, nobody had wanted my newspaper for a long time.

Look at the missed opportunities. Couldn’t we have talked about the war, basketball, the daily paper and one of the most important migrations in modern history and been more successful,to boot? Wouldn’t our students have learned more?