A Tale of Two Women

If you're lucky, you have a professional mentor. Someone that you look up to and maybe even strive to be like. I'm extremely lucky. I have two.

Lorraine Paris was a formidable woman that struck fear in the hearts of not too few adults. I can remember seeing her from a distance as a child and being wary of her myself. She was the band director at the high school for 47 years and had a widespread reputation for molding the lives of young people. She was renowned in South Carolina for her work with the fine arts, not only at her own high school, but with the state organization of band directors and other high schools as well. To say she was tough is an extreme understatement--the opposite of hyperbole, if you will. She retired the same year that I graduated and I moved on, carrying with me the lessons that she taught and an assurance that I would probably blend in with the thousands of other faces in her memory. I was very wrong. Shortly after my graduation from Carolina and my hiring at Newberry High, I attended the annual band banquet with my parents and my younger sister. The woman, who I felt sure would not be able to call my name, congratulated me on my new job and told me how proud she was. Needless to say, I was in shock.

Those words were powerful and I have worked to live up to them every day since. A few years into my teaching job, Ms. Paris told me she heard what a wonderful job I was doing in the classroom and that she was not surprised. Her compliments were not given out lightly and I cherished them greatly. Still do, actually.

Physically opposite of Ms. Paris, but no less hard-nosed, was my high school assistant principal. Charlene Burton is short in stature but powerful in attitude. She is infamous for her power suits and tennis shoes (a fashion faux pas to be sure, but easy to maneuver around the high school, no doubt). By the time I worked my way through college, decided I would never be a teacher, and took a job as a long-term substitute, Mrs. Charlene gave me the best professional advice ever. Advice that I have followed since. Once I decided that teaching was indeed the life for me, she made sure that I understood that every time I moved to a new school, I would be starting over. I've held that advice close and thought long and hard before making a school change. She shined the light on the theory of the evil you know vs. the evil you don't.

Both of these women were the epitome of professionalism in my eyes. There is no doubt that I have fallen short many, many times, but I know that I will continue to strive.