I did see it coming when the opening screen announced the title, “Beyond the Blackboard.” But I didn’t resist –— given the infrequency of her attempts to commandeer the remote (and given my secret enjoyment of some of those flicks on her favorite channels, Lifetime, LMN and, yes, Hallmark — please don’t tell her or any of my old high school locker room buddies!!).
Yes, I knew where the story would take me. Those actors, producers (five of them!), director, screenwriter, cinematographer, key grip and gaffer and scores of others had conspired together with the 275,000-member National Education Association to suck me into yet another sentimental story about a heroic schoolteacher.
I’d been arrested before by this device. “Freedom Writers.” “Mr. Holland’s Opus.” “Dead Poets Society.” “Stand and Deliver.” “To Sir, with Love.” And that fountainhead of them all: “The Miracle Worker.” Yes, my not-too-proud-to-admit-it sensitive side had flooded over with emotion before when watching the transformative power of creative, determined, persevering teachers working with seemingly unreachable, incorrigible, even raging-out-of-control students.
It didn’t take half my brain to know that I was in for it again. So during the first commercial, I grabbed a tall glass of water to stock up my tear ducts for the work they soon would be called upon to produce.
Those tear reservoirs were tapped several times over as the story unfolded on our widescreen TV. Based on the book “Nobody Don’t Love Nobody: Lessons on Love from the School with No Name” by Stacey Bess, it presented a first-person account of the efforts of a 24-year-old, middle-class teacher taking on the job of teaching homeless kids in Salt Lake City. Handed a totally trashed makeshift classroom and children of all ages who have no place to call home or school, Bess poured herself into these children and their “families.”
She brought no specialized training and was provided no specialized curriculum for use with this special population of students. But girded with a pioneer, can-do spirit, she followed her heart, her intuition and her gritty will power to connect with the children, to equip them with reading-writing-‘rithmetric skills and to empower them with hope.
She changed their lives.
She’s not the first teacher to change lives. I can name classroom teachers who changed mine. When I graduated from college, I sent a thank-you note to Mrs. Lees, my eighth-grade English teacher, telling her how she had paved the way for my degree. (Twenty-four years later I sent her a second thank-you note, accompanied by a copy of my first published book). I think also of Mr. Pepper, my sixth-grade math teacher, and Mr. Cargill, my high school chorus director (so like “Mr. Holland’s Opus,” which turned me into a puddle). And Dr. Peterson, the philosophy prof who showed me that all truth is God’s truth. And I think of Mr. Van Houten, my first Bible study teacher, who infected me with a love for Scripture.
Many Bible heroes made their mark by teaching. Moses, David, Solomon. Elijah, Isaiah, Malachi. Anna and Simeon. Paul and Peter. Luke and John. Priscilla and Aquila. Jesus. Teachers all.
The power of teaching is presumed in holy Scripture. It has been presumed in every vital church through the ages.
But it’s not presumed in every church today. In times too much defined by tight budgets and diminished birth rates, the position of church educator is getting dropped from many larger church staff rosters. Many smaller churches are succumbing to demographic trends by dropping children’s, youth and even adult education programs while still pumping energy into worship services that too often are starving for theological, educational content.
No simple answers. No magic wands. But revival of church hinges upon revival of teaching — teaching of the word of God. It requires the employment, the unleashing, the determined, can-do spirit of Christian educators.
Hallmark convinced this movie watcher again that educators matter. If you’re not so convinced, go see the movie.
—JHH
