Jennifer Jones

It was supposed to be a casual and quick lunch with a couple of colleagues I worked with when I taught in a middle school some years ago. It turned into an experience that will stay with me every day of the rest of my life. As we finished lunch at the restaurant, I commented that the school where we had worked together was newly renovated and I hadn't seen it yet. I suggested I pop over after lunch for a quick tour. Since it was a teacher work day for them, I wasn't planning on bumping into anyone at my former building. The plan was to take a quick tour and leave.

As my friend Amy was showing me the new fieldhouse, the school secretary made an announcement: "If anyone has Jennifer Jones' address, please contact the office." Amy and I looked at each other. The fact that my name came over the PA when I was in the building was bizarre; I have not worked in that school for three years. I called the secretary, told her I was in the building, and would swing by the office to say hello. Moments later, while touring the new performing arts center, there was another announcement: "Mrs. Jones, if you are still in the building please come to the office. You have a visitor." Again, Amy and I looked at each other with the same thought: Who in the world knows I'm here, and who in the world wants to see me?

We made our way to the front of the building. Numerous former colleagues now stood before me, small talk ensued, and the principal shook my hand. Then from around the corner, one of the secretaries motioned for someone to come forward. It was a young man who walked into my seventh grade reading class six years ago upon arrival from an orphanage in China. YuYang was 14 years old, didn't speak a lick of English, but had a personality that lit up a room and an infectious smile. No one ever knew what he was saying in those first days and weeks in my classroom, but everyone immediately adored him. We all knew there was something special about him.

YuYang proceeded to tell me, in wonderful English, that he had just graduated from high school and was now working at the school as a part-time custodian. According to YuYang, all this happened because I taught him how to read. I began to feel my eyes welling up, in front of people who were pretty much strangers to me now. I knew the tears were fast approaching, which quickly would become full-fledged crying.

My principal at the time assigned me to work with this young man one-on-one as part of my teaching assignment. I didn't know the first thing about teaching someone English, so we started by walking around the building every day identifying the things we saw. As we stood in the hallway years past those walks through the building, YuYang talked about sitting at the back table in my classroom learning English and how to read. The tears intensified when he said, "I didn't know what you were reading when you read to the class, but I knew I wanted to know." He told me how much he learned when he was my one and only student for six weeks of summer school. He had one goal during summer school and through the years since - to graduate from high school and get a job.

At this point a crowd had gathered, my face looked like I had terrible sunburn, and I didn't know what to say. Here was this young man I had only thought about occasionally, standing in front of me telling me that he has succeeded because of me. In all honesty the words are not what sticks with me from the experience; it's the guilt. He proceeded to ask me for my e-mail address so that we could keep in touch and I could recommend books for him to read.

I cordially dismissed myself from the audience, waved goodbye to colleagues, and made my way to my car where I began to sob. I couldn't believe I had almost forgotten this young man who looked me in the eyes and said, "Every time I pick up a book I think of you. I love to read." YuYang may have learned some valuable lessons from me, but what he will never realize is the lesson he taught me today: to step back, reflect, and remember.

Jennifer Jones is a literacy coach in Waukesha, Wisconsin.

Do you have a "YuYang" in your life, a chance encounter with a former student that changed your perspective as a teacher? Take a minute to tell us about it using the contact form below - we'll compile the responses for a postscript to Jennifer's article in the future.