Mrs. Cockerham was a middle school (we called it Jr. High School) history teacher. Silver headed. Maybe it was white. Her hair was short and rolled under all around except on her forehead. Quick to smile. Her laugh was either a quick burst or one of cocky amusement. She was quick to think. Witty. Her observations were a source of delight to her. "It would take a Philadelphia lawyer and 17 bloodhounds to find the truth in that rascal", she would say. "Yes sirree bob, I'll just give em my Cockerham smile and a wink. If you say I said it, I'll say I didn't."
Mrs. Cockerham was unknown to me, but I was not unknown to her. News of my indigent self-image and massive inferiority had reached her. I weighed a firm 150 pounds with typical adolescent features consisting of long arms, short legs, and a terminal case of acne that fed on Clearacil. Mrs. Cockerham knew that my first year in the 7th grade had been academically tragic, socially painful and personally demeaning.
I failed every subject, every semester. When I walked out of E.E. Bass Jr. High School in the spring of 1964, I was resolved to never return. My grandfather encouraged me during the summer months and somehow convinced me to try one more time. I was poised for another humiliating, shameful school experience.
Breathing heavily from my dash through the halls and up the flight of wooden stairs, I stood at the back entrance of Mrs. Cockerham's classroom. I waited for her to turn toward the blackboard, so I could slip into a seat without being detected. She did and I did. Suddenly, she turned as I took one step through the threshold. Without missing a beat, she said, "Bill Spears!" I froze. Every eye in the classroom was fixed on me. Mrs. Cockerham stepped forward and said, "Bill Spears, get yourself up here!" She pointed at the floor beside her. I felt a lump of fear grab my throat and tears of shame were about to empty down my cheeks. "I knew I should have stayed home", I thought as I lumbered to the front of the classroom.
And then it happened.
Mastery of Thyself
-
It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.
- Edmund Hillary
It is better to conquer yourself
than to win a thousand battles.
Then the victory is y...
1 year ago