STILL THE STUDENT by C.Bahti

Though I have been teaching for nearly a quarter of a century, it is I who continues to learn so very much from my students. The one constant in my teaching has been that each and everyone of them have a story to tell and are just hoping that someone will listen.

As the semester is coming to an end, the calls from students are increasing: one has mono and will miss class --again; one has a seriously ill husband and will miss class --for the first time; one is moving out of state; one is in the midst of a break-up from an abusive beau; a few are worried about passing (a little late to worry about that I'd say), but all in all, the message is the same,
I have a story to tell.

I should have started documenting student stories years ago; they would make an unbelievable book: the student who, at nine, watched his father get shot, and was wounded himself as the bullet richocheted into him; the student who, at nineteen, discovered she had breast cancer, thanks to the exploring hands of her live-in boyfriend; the student who, as a freshman in college lost both parents in a car accident while they were driving back from Vegas;the young man who lost his mother to Melonoma, but still managed to come to class the morning of her death in order to give his group his research and provide them with a boom box; the student whose father was in prison for killing his mother; the student who was recently released from a juvenile institution where he had served time for manslaughter; and the stories go on and on.

Next semester, I am going to continue to teach, but more importantly, I am going to continue to hear, to learn, to truly listen to the stories; I am forever, still, the student.