Yesterday I was greeted by name in the grocery store. I don't know how he recognized me after almost four decades ago when he sat in my Englisn class. I didn't recognize him, but that's understandable as he's not a kid anymore. In brief conversation, he told me how he had not gotten very good grades in school and the grade I gave him was the highest. I said whatever grade he had received, he had earned; I went by the work submitted. He said I was a good teacher because I talked in a clear way that he could understand, and he thanked me again for that.
It's very humbling and rather sad to find that something so simple as a grade in a high school subject is still recalled and remarked upon as a life's milestone. If I could go back in time, I'd like to raise the grades of all the struggling students I've ever taught. But a long delayed victory would be as meaningless as that conceded to Pete Rose: too late.
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