Nancy Hendrix is a delightful young woman who sandwiches conducting our senior aquatic exercises at the YMCA in two classes there, three classes at Mississippi University for Women and an after-school program in Caledonia.
She is always smiling and upbeat, and that is not surprising. She is the daughter of the legendary Chick Reece, longtime YMCA director, whom many Columbians recall with affection.
I thought, “Boy, I bet Nancy has a lot of memories of growing up at the Y.” And she does, especially of summers spent out at Camp Henry Pratt, where her late mother, Janis, was the irrepressible “Camp Mom.”
She remembers the wonderful fried chicken, homemade rolls and gravy from “Mandy”s kitchen.” She recalls the fresh produce from Fuqua”s Grocery with the cold watermelons. Her family stayed all summer in the director”s cabin.
All was not delicious food and play time. Maybe even more memorable were the times they worked hard getting the camp ready. Nancy, her dad, and her brother, Chuck, helped clean, painted the pool, did a lot of manual labor, along with a man named “Buck” from the Carson plantation nearby. Even so, they still had time for fun things like canoeing on the Tombigbee River.
Camp Pratt was where she learned to drive. They drove around in a red and green convertible, with cans of gasoline and a chlorine cylinder in it. A young Perry Hendrix was on the camp staff and was just like a son to Chick Reece. Later he actually did become his son-in-law, when he and Nancy married. Both are on the YMCA staff now. They have one daughter, Abby, who is 23 years old.
Until this year Nancy was a teacher for the first grade and special needs children in Caledonia. I commented that it must be quite a change to switch from first graders to us “old folks.” (I think I refrained from saying, “crotchety old folks.”)
That”s when Nancy surprised me. She said, “It”s like a new lease on life. I haven”t laughed as much in the last 10 years as I have in the last two months. This is like a turning point in my life. I love y”all”s class. I taught school for 17 years, and I just couldn”t take it anymore.”
Our conversation became serious then. We like to think of our own early school years as being almost idyllic. I remembered my second grade “best friend.” Mary Anne and I were so crazy about our pretty teacher, Miss Slagle, that we”d do nearly anything to please her. Even eat a carrot.
“Why do you feel that way?” I asked, thinking I probably could guess the answer.
“Oh, I still love children,” she answered. “But it is just to hard to teach now. We have to be everything, as if we are trying to be a Wal-Mart in the classroom. It is like taking over home duties.
“We have to feed, supply, teach, nurse. There are many records to keep. There is always some kind of trauma, nearly every day. Once I had a child get his leg caught in a see-saw and had to get him out. Sometimes it is more like a medical clinic than a school.
“About 90 percent of our day was taken up with discipline, and everything you do must have a witness. Once I had a child try to throw a locker across the room. Children have not been taught at home to have any respect, and teachers cannot do everything. It is extremely stressful. You hardly have time to say ”hello” to your fellow teachers.”
She said there was incredible pressure, even with teachers” aides. Paperwork is overwhelming. There is apparently not enough time to teach.
My thoughts
I am not an educator. I do not know how to solve the problem, but it seems to me two big things are called for. Somebody needs to get out of the way and let teachers teach. And, even more important, parents absolutely must take some responsibility for disciplining their children. It is not too much to expect them to do some work reinforcing what is done in the school room, also. Teachers can teach, but they should not have to rear their students totally. If a child must be punished at school, he should also be held accountable at home.
I am fully aware that the people who ignore their children, who abdicate that highest responsibility, are not likely to be readers of this column, but maybe someone will.
It”s sort of like that story about Jerry Clower wrestling with a wildcat up in a tree. He called down to his friend, “Marcel, just shoot up here amongst us! One of us has got to get some relief!”
No, I am not recommending shooting. But rather than lose good teachers, we have got to get some relief. Any tough job needs cooperative efforts.
The Dispatch Editorial Board is made up of publisher Peter Imes, columnist Slim Smith, managing editor Zack Plair and senior newsroom staff.
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