by Jim Plautz
I was one of the first to arrive in the teachers’ lounge and listened to the diverse reactions of the other teachers.
“I don’t care who he is, there is no excuse for swearing in school. Ass is a cussword in my book.”
“Oh fiddlesticks, did you see how the students paid attention when he told them to study. I’ve already seen a big improvement in my classes.”
“That was quite a performance Jennifer put on,” a male teacher remarked.
“Disgusting,” another said.
Mrs. Reynolds was the oldest and had the final word. “I almost wet my pants when he started playing the saxophone. Did you see those biceps?”
Principal Hawkins arrived and the room quieted. “Okay, if everyone is here, let’s get started.”
Ms. Thompson burst into the room holding a bouquet of flowers. “Sorry, I’m late, but I stopped to buy flowers for my husband before they’re all gone.”
“Where did you get them?” I asked.
“Look outside, there are four florist trucks lined up and the kid’s are buying them as fast as the florists can supply them.”
Most of the teachers flocked to the window to see for themselves. Sure enough, there must be four hundred kids standing in line while the lucky ones walked away with their bouquets. It looked like the florists had just run out. Then we noticed the lucky kids coming back.
“Look, do you see what’s happening? The kids with the flowers are offering part of their bouquets to the kids that don’t have any.” Pretty soon, each student had at least a single flower to take home to their mother.”
“Can you believe that?” someone said. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Ms. Thompson had taken the rubber bands off her floral arrangement and offered to share. “Sometimes we can learn from our kids.”
“Let’s continue,” Mr. Hawkins said. “I for one have a dinner date with my wife this evening. But I did want to talk with you about what we saw this afternoon.”
Another teacher piped in. “I just got off the phone with the principal from the high school Matthew transferred from. Did anyone else get a call?”
Every hand shot up. Matthew’s former basketball coach had called me the day after Matthew walked into my office the first day. I had a hunch what the calls were about.
“I didn’t,” Mrs. Holmes said, “although someone named Jones has tried to call me seven or eight times. I don’t accept calls from strangers.”
“You had better take the call, Mrs. Holmes, or you will wake up one morning and find a beautiful, 66-year old teacher sitting on your doorstep.” Matthew was standing in the doorway. “May I say something, Principal Hawkins?”
He nodded, and Matthew continued. “I have a hunch what Mrs. Jones wants to say, and probably what the rest of you were told by your peers at Santa Barbara High School. She will ask you to give me some leeway. They are proud of what we accomplished in Santa Barbara. Am I right, is that what the rest of you heard?”
Several teachers nodded.
Matthew continued. “Let me tell you a wonderful story. Mrs. Jones was ready to retire three years ago. She had lost her husband to cancer, and frankly was becoming a bitter woman. Today she is the best teacher in that school and the students love her. We sent a petition to the school board to waive mandatory retirement and let her teach another year.”
Teachers listened as Matthew went on. He was speaking their language.
“My former principal called me yesterday and asked how things were going and if there was anything he could do. I told him about the pep rally and my concerns that teachers here would think I’m moving too fast. He asked if it would be all right to call Principal Hawkins. My understanding is that he mentioned it to his assistant principal and pretty soon every teacher got the word had decided to call. Believe me, I didn’t ask teachers to call.”
Mrs. Butler supported what Matthew had said. “The teacher that called me said you didn’t know, but felt he had to call after everything you had done for the school.” Several other teachers nodded in agreement. They had been told the same thing.
Matthew continued. “I’m not trying to take over the school. We are all trying to make sure the students get the best education. Sometimes kids listen better if they hear it from another student. I think you know that and I hope you understand.”
Having said what he came to say, Matthew departed.
Principal Hawkins summed up what we were all thinking. “Not that I want to, but we couldn’t stop him if we did. Did you see how the kids worship him?”
Rosann and I arrived at Logan’s Roadhouse just after 6:30 PM. The place was already packed and we were ready to try another restaurant when Tom Osteen, one of my players made room for us at their table. “It’s the same at all the other restaurants, they are all packed,” Tom informed us. “Matthew is sending the overflow to other restaurants.”
The waiter took our order and we sat back and looked at the crowd. Everyone seemed to be in a festive mood and many of the ladies wore flowers in their hair or pinned to their dresses. Tom went to another table to talk with friends and his mother leaned over to Rosann. “Can you believe that Tom said he loved me?” She said with pride.
“What brought that on?” Rosann asked.
“He just came home from school and put his arms around me and said, ‘Mother, I love you very much. You are the best’.”
“I looked up at him to see if he was kidding, or something, but he wasn’t. You haven’t said that to me since you were seven. What brought this on?” I asked him.
“Mom, I am so lucky to have a mother like you. Someone at school just reminded me to say it.”
“I just started crying, and then he handed me some flowers and said he wanted to take his dad and me to dinner tonight, and here we are.”
Tears came to her eyes and Rosann offered a comforting hug. A woman at the next table overheard the conversation and said the same thing had happened to her. “My daughter hadn’t told me she loved me for six years and then out of the blue she comes out and tells us what great parents we are and that she loves us. My husband had tears in his eyes.”
“Another father interrupted and said that the same thing happened at their home.” The story was the same at every table.
We were waiting for dessert when a buzz started to flow through the room. Matthew and his parents were on the way. The room spontaneously erupted with applause when Matthew and his parents appeared.
Matthew ignored the many invitations and zeroed in on several small tables in the corner where families were eating alone. “Come on, let’s pull these tables together. John, Mary, Sally; introduce your parents.” Five minutes later the men were talking deer hunting and the women were talking golf. I had seen it before, but I was constantly amazed at Matthew’s ability to bring people together. Matthew took a few bites of food and began making the rounds, greeting every student by first name. He stopped briefly at our table and introduced himself to Rosann, complimenting her on her dress and telling her what a pleasure it was to play basketball for me. Fifteen minutes later he said his goodbyes and was headed for the next restaurant. Before leaving he asked everyone to introduce themselves. “Get to know each other; we have a lot of work to do together this year.”
You might have thought that people would begin to leave after Matthew departed, and a few did, but most stayed and did what Matthew had asked. It was more than an hour later when Rosann and I said our goodbyes. “Well Rosann, what do you think of him?” I asked. It was the first time she had spoken with Matthew.
“I don’t know how to say it, but he made me feel so good about myself. He looks you in the eye and makes you feel important. I have never met someone like that before.”
“I understand, I see it every day at school.”
“Besides, he is a hunk. You better treat me nice or I just might be tempted to rob the cradle.”
“I accept your challenge, starting as soon as we get home.”
“Why wait?” R
osann said, as she leaned towards me.
Friday’s basketball game was anticlimactic. Matthew scored only 12 points, but we beat Wauwatosa West by 28 points. Every player scored and six were in double figures. The crowd was large and noisy and two hours before game time the auditorium was packed. There were 3,000 fans crammed into a gymnasium designed to hold 2,300 and another 2,000 cheered from outside in fifteen degree temperatures. It would be like this for every game. Matthew went outside at halftime to thank the shivering fans. “The team knows you are out here and it means a lot to us,” Matthew shouted. “Thank you!”
Chapter 10 - Media Bash