stammering panic and they try to explain themselves with excuses like, “It is just, you know,
so poor there, is all I meant.” I tell them that it is not a poor area and that I teach children
from all economic backgrounds. I have students whose parents are doctors, lawyers, and
nurses. I have students from single-parent families, extended families, and welfare families.
This usually quiets them.
I believe that I can make a difference where I am and I think that is the main goal of teach-
ing. My students are children in a world that they did not create. I am here to teach what it
means to be a person, a human being, in a world where there is racism, sexism, and violence.
***I Was the New Kid and I Was Scaredby Stephanie Hunte
Stephanie Hunte is a young African American woman of Caribbean ancestry. Both of her parents
are immigrants from Barbados. Stephanie was born in New York City and grew up and started
school in a largely West Indian community. She earned her teacher certification as a graduate stu-
dent.—Alan Singer
Families are complicated. I do not know what my father does. I have not seen him in many
years. I have an older sister. I also had an older brother, but he died from Sudden Infant
Death Syndrome. I did not even know about him until I was in high school. One day my
mother said, “Oh, did you know your brother is buried in this cemetery?” I think I re-
sponded, “Really, what brother?”
When my mother first came to this country, she was a maid; then she was a secretary at
the hospital where I was born. Today, she is a college graduate with a masters degree and is
a registered nurse. School was always very important in my house. I remember when my
mother was becoming a nurse, she dissected a cat in the house. All of her nursing buddies
were sitting down with this black cat. I was only about 8 years old, but I remember this so
clearly. My mother is still going to school; now she is learning about computers.
I attended elementary school in New York City before my family moved to the suburbs. I
still remember my first day of kindergarten. I was crying. I started school a month later than
the other children because I had to wait for my fifth birthday. By that time everybody else
knew each other. I was the new kid and I was scared. When I was in second grade, I had the
lowest reading scores in my class and the teacher considered putting me into a slower class
or even holding me back a grade. That year is still fresh in my memory. The boy who sat in
front of me had been hit in the back of the head, and he had horrible scars there. I was
scared to sit behind him, so I did not want to go to school. I am not sure if there is a connec-
tion between my fear and my performance, but I did not do well in second grade.
As a student, I had a major breakthrough in fifth grade. Suddenly, I started to read. By the
time I was in sixth grade, I had the highest reading scores in my school. Once I learned how
to read, I loved it, and I read a lot. Now I realize that when I understand how to do something
it becomes fun for me, not just a task. My mother and the teachers who cared about me de-
serve credit for the way I was finally able to perform in school.
I decided to become a teacher because I never wanted to leave school. I want to help chil-
dren who are frightened of school learn to love it. I tell my students that every effort is a
good effort. But they have to do more and more so they will get better. My mother taught me
that as I get better, things will be less frightening.
46 CHAPTER 2