Regrets

Last week, the world lost an amazing person. The whole town of Boone seemed to take time to memorialize a former Boone High teacher that seemed to impact nearly everyone in town. Shortly after word of his death, a Facebook memorial group appeared. Hundreds of former students joined and left touching comments about their wonderful memories of him as a teacher.

When I was in high school, Mr. Lyness taught Economics and International Topics. I remember seeing students carrying around their "text book" for Econ--the Wall Street Journal, and hearing about the marathon tests they had to take in his classes. Everyone who took his classes really valued what they were learning because the lessons seemed to come alive with this teacher. Mr. Lyness was a colorful person, with his high waisted plaid pants and unique stride as he walked down the school halls. Students picked up the strange expressions he used in class, even exclaiming, "Katie, bar the door!" randomly at lunch or in study hall. When he taught, Mr. Lyness spoke enthusiastically from experience, sharing stories from days in the military and various other events that held even the most self centered teenager in rapt attention.

Well, maybe not every teenager. I signed up to take his International Topics class during my senior year, but got bit by the senioritis bug and in a moment of stupidity, dropped his class and added something fluffy my schedule. I think it was "Industrial Arts for the Homemaker". The decision made perfect sense to me at the time and I'm sure I justified it by considering how the hours of studying might get in the way of my social life. Sigh.

If I felt guilty about this decision to be a slacker, I either covered it up well, or else those feelings were lost in the cloud of self centeredness that the senior year brings. That is, until the week of graduation. There was a knock at our front door, and when I opened it, there was Mr. Lyness, bringing ME a graduation card. Me..the one who couldn't make the effort to take his class, and there he was, going out of his way to bring me good wishes.  I mumbled my thanks in disbelief, and as he walked back to his car, I sat down on the steps to open the card. Inside was a full page of his signature script, with a touching  message of encouragement for me. 

The waves of humility and regret crashed over me at that moment, and I bawled. I cried because my heart had been touched by the unexpected kindness of someone who barely knew me, and I cried tears of sorrow for a missed opportunity.

After I completed college and moved back to Boone to teach, I didn't cross paths often with this man. Yet anytime I saw him, he greeted me with the warmth of a favorite former student. He retired from teaching, and continued to substitute teach at the high school. Everyone on staff was amazed, but not surprised at his dedication to the profession of teaching.

25+years later, I still regret not taking that International Topics class, but I realized I still learned a lot from that man. He modeled enthusiasm for teaching and learning, and setting high expectations for all students. I can honor his memory by striving to be a little more like him.

Except maybe for the plaid pants, but I think he'd completely understand.