Educational Leadership

attend college. Graduation night, I informed my family of those plans. My mom was thrilled, my brothers in awe. But my dad—well let’s say he was not as excited. He was the oldest of 13, and when his parents died he had become the head of the house. His expectations were that everyone left school, got a job, and pitched in. In his eyes, my plans were disrespectful and arrogant. I took the worst beating of my life graduation night, 1972.

But I went to college—part academic
scholarship, part athletic, mostly Pell
Grants and loans. In four years, I never
spoke with my father. When I grad-
uated in 1976, I was fortunate enough
to find a teaching job. At about that
time, I called my mother. She told me
that for the first time in 11 years, “Pop”
would not be able to have a garden. He
had no seed money. I summoned my
courage and asked her to put him on
the phone. He sounded like a beaten
man. Working in his garden and the
food it provided defined him. I asked
how much money he needed, and he
replied, “Too much, don’t worry about
it.” On further discussion, “too much”
turned out to be about $200. I was
more than eager to help—to prove that
I had done well. He wouldn’t hear of me
sending him money that I “didn’t have.”
A road trip home, with cash and a
pay stub to prove that I was making
all of $7,600 a year, would change
everything. My father was shocked
and grateful. I never thought I’d hear
the man say, “Son, I was wrong. That
education thing did pay off, didn’t it? I
don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make
that kind of money!”
Yeah, Pop, it did pay off. Today,
after 35 years as an educator with seven
degrees, I have a new job as social
worker and truant officer for Santa Rosa
Schools in Florida. I deal with ignorance
and poverty in kids and parents daily.
It’s a good thing that I had the proper
training!