By Shane Williams
The plan for this second entry of Secrets from Area 21 was to continue a series on “Secrets to Escaping Poverty”; however, I don’t think readers would be too upset if, in honour of Teachers Appreciation Week, I take this time to move up a piece that was scheduled to be published at the end of June. I would like to use this platform to recognize some of my heroes and share some secrets not even they have heard from me before. We do not express gratitude to our teachers as often as we should and this is something that needs to change. The efforts teachers put into their students are fuel for the engines that change the world. A little “thank you” every now and then boosts these efforts. Allow me to take this time to say thank you to seven heroes who I met in classrooms at Wesley Primary, St. John’s College and the University of Belize.
I met teacher Doreen Belisle in Standard 1B at Wesley Lower School. The B class was for students in the middle of the pack. I was put into Infant 1B when I enrolled at Wesley Primary because I did not have a pre-school background. The fact that I was way ahead of the class in reading and counting was not good enough to make me an A student. Also, working against me was the fact that my handwriting is awful. My handwriting was so awful that I was ashamed to go write on the blackboard when called upon by teachers. I still am to this day. Teachers in Infant 1 and 2 would hit my fingers with rulers. They would return my writing assignments with a lot of red ink pointing out my poor letter formations. The highest grade I ever got on writing in my Infant 1 and Infant 2 years was a C. I remember my Infant 2 teacher threatening to repeat me if I turned in another assignment “so untidy”. She had no idea just how many times I erased what I wrote just to try pretty up the round letters. It reached a point where I would rather take the lashing from Principal Kay Thurton for not doing homework than take the harsh criticism of my writing skills. I hated everything about school and I can remember the day before classes opened for my Standard 1 year, I was at Calvary Baptist Sunday school praying for God to not let me go back to school.
Something amazing happened the day after that desperate prayer to God. I had an incident that caused me to almost lose my right thumb. While walking home with my friend Devany, we decided to go tease the St. Ignatius students. This was part of going to Wesley Primary. “Natius, Natius sit around the table – talk about people – your batty full of weasel!” We did this almost everyday because the older students would chase after us to give us a beating. The chase was something to look forward to daily. Unfortunately, there were times when the giants from St. Ignatius would catch up to one of us. The beating was not something to look forward to. On my way home from the first day in Standard 1B, one of St. Ignatius’ ogres caught up with me in a yard on Allenby Street. He gave me a hard push to the ground and I fell into a garden. The garden was surrounded by a wall of sharp three inch high glass. Trying to ease my fall I set my hands down to brace. My left hand caught unto a Hibiscus tree but my right hand went straight on to one of the glass. My hand went numb immediately. I got right back up and the ogre ran away as if he had seen a ghost. I set chase after him but didn’t get far before I started feeling weak. Pastor Loyd from Bethany Baptist Church was passing in his van that same time and he saw blood pouring from my hand. He rushed me to the Belize City Hospital where a nurse stopped the bleeding and gave me nine stitches. I was given two weeks off from school. Prayers answered?
Sadly, I had to return to school eventually. I couldn’t write, literally, but at least now I had an excuse. I had only been in Mrs. Doreen Belisle’s class for one day when the incident took place so she had no experience with my poor hand writing. All my tests and assignments in the first term of standard one had to be taken orally. I even dictated my composition and Mrs. Belisle wrote. I finished that term with an average of 94.8. I remember during my grammar exam Mrs. Belisle said she had no idea how I was not in the A class. I told her it was because I couldn’t write. She said, “What do you mean you can’t write? You had the best composition in the class!” I said, “No Miss, I never get higher than C on writing because my handwriting is not pretty.” She said, “Listen to me. Don’t ever say you are not a good writer again. Pretty handwriting has nothing to with anything.” I remember those words like she just said it a second ago. “You are as smart as any one of them over there [pointing towards Standard 1A]. After standard one I was promoted to Standard 2A. My handwriting has only gotten worse over the years but my passion for writing has continued to grow every day since Mrs. Belisle said those words to me.
Mrs. Belisle made me feel comfortable enough to write my thoughts, ideas and feelings on paper even though my handwriting is awful. That comfort eventually evolved into passion. My passion for writing, not skill and definitely not penmanship, has been responsible for all the opportunities that have come my way in terms of scholarships, employment and networking. It has allowed me travel across the globe: Europe, Asia, the Caribbean, the Americas. It has allowed me to interview heads of states and other high ranking diplomats. I have been able to change the stars just because a standard one teacher gave me confidence.
There are many teachers like Mrs. Doreen Belisle. They may never know just how much of an impact they had on an individual’s life. Therefore, every now and then it is important for us to show a little appreciation towards them. This is my way of saying thank you to Mrs. Belisle. You were right! Pretty handwriting has nothing to do with anything. While I’m on it, let me say a big thank you to other teachers who have played a significant role in preparing me for the opportunities and challenges that have and will come my way: Mrs. Karen Tillett, Mr. Nigel Encalada, Mr. David Lacey, Mrs. Tracey Sangster, Ms. Ivory Kelly and Mrs. Sarita Lewis. I will share secrets about my encounters with each of them that they have no idea about but for which I am extremely grateful. Happy Teachers Day in advance!
Secrets from Area 21 is a column about my life growing up at the corner of Kraal Road and Kut Avenue in Southside Belize City. My family’s house lot served as the border line for four of the city’s most dangerous gangs for many years: George Street, Supal Street, Kraal Road and South Side Gang. As a result, I have intimate knowledge of the “thug life” in Belize City and will share some stories about the worst of times and best of times in my neighbourhood and my life.
