REWIND WINSDAY
A public school suspended a non-student toddler and assigned him a two-week detention. The shocking story happened to a kid who was not even old enough to attend the school.
One of my dear friends was suspended in first grade and later kicked out of school in Los Angeles. That must be some kind of record.
However, my dad holds a very unusual educational experience.
MY DAD WAS SUSPENDED FROM SCHOOL…AND LATER ASSIGNED SCHOOL DETENTION BEFORE HE WAS OLD ENOUGH TO BE A STUDENT.
That is correct. My dad was suspended from school at the age of five, when he was not even enrolled in preschool or kindergarten.
Context: Dad was the third of four brothers who grew up with a single, uneducated mother. They fled in the middle of the night from the abusive threats of an angry alcoholic dad. They carried everything they owned in a few pillow sacks and started a new home in a chicken coup.
That little boy in detention would grow up to become a lifelong educator. He made a mark of influence on students as a Hall of Fame Coach, math teacher, high school principal, and superintendent. That is quite a record for someone who had every reason to hate school.
The shocking incident in school remained hidden in the journals of family secrecy for many years.
School suspension is not unique. The Breakfast Club became a hit movie describing the story of five high-school teenagers from different social cliques sharing Saturday detention. The John Hughes movie voiceover describes them as “a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.”
Derek joins the Breakfast Club
In the movie, their suspension in the school library is overseen by the no-nonsense vice-principal. They are commanded not to talk, move from their seats, or sleep until their late afternoon release time.
The detention supervisor assigns the unlikely group a thousand-word essay, in which each must describe “who you think you are.”
“Who do you think you are?” These were not the words for an assigned essay nor the choral lyrics for the Spice Girls’ classic. This was the stern admonition from a very disappointed principal to a frightened five-year-old boy visiting his brothers at school.
“Who do you think you are? Aren’t you Golsie’s boy? She is going to hear about this.”
What was “this”? Let me set the stage for “this” suspension-worthy caper.
When my dad was five years old, the highlight of his day was a visit to his older brothers’ school playground. Every school day, dad would walk alone two miles to school to play with his brothers and their friends during recess.
After recess, he would take a short-cut back home through the corn field and the cotton patch. He returned for the lunch break in the schoolyard. That trip was repeated for the afternoon recess. Every day.
Dad’s older six-year-old brother, Derwin, was his best buddy throughout life. Derwin always had a twinkle in his eyes. He had a keen sense for observing life and people. He could always see the humor or irony in any event. He could also get his younger brother to accept any challenge.
This particular circumstance tested the little brother’s loyalty. Even more so than when the two of them accidentally killed the family rooster while using it as a basketball for their homemade hoop. They hid the dead chicken on the roof until the wind blew it down. Accidental concussion.
One day at lunch, Derwin and his school friend “traded” lunch sacks with a classmate. They “forgot” to ask first. As they peeked into the brown paper sack, they found a ham sandwich and a banana. This looked like a good time to exchange their egg and carrots for the lunch upgrade.
They enjoyed the sandwich and fruit but were busted by the short-changed student who went straight to the principal’s office to file his complaint. Derwin was “aghast” but not speechless. He quickly devised a plan.
It should be noted that Derwin would also grow up to be a high school coach and principal. He devoted his life to education. His stories of crying confessions made in his principal’s office were legendary.
Principal Derwin once hooked up a wire to a board game buzzer hidden under his desk. He told the mischievous student it was a lie detector. Every time the student professed his innocence, the buzzer would sound. The Q&A interrogation eventually produced a crying confession from the school’s bully.
On another occasion, he questioned a student who denied swallowing the drugs reported to be in his locker. Principal Derwin called the local pharmacist and inquired about the danger of someone ingesting that small amount. He was aghast at how little time was left for the kid to call his mother and say goodbye. Another confession. Case solved. (I know, that stuff is not culturally acceptable now.)
Uncle Derwin knew all the tricks. This early school caper explanation was brilliant in its strategy.
Derwin convinced his five-year-old brother to take the fall for the lunch sack switch. His reasoning was sound. If Derwin confessed, he would get paddled and suspended, not to mention what mom would do to him back home.
However, the school could not punish his little brother with a spanking or suspension. He was not a student and, therefore, not under their jurisdiction. He might get lectured, but he would take one for the team.
Little brother reluctantly agreed. He admitted to the principal he took the sandwich. He was very sorry and would never do that again. The principal scolded him and let him go.
Derwin missed school the next day to stay with his brother. One could hope that the young delinquents could skip school in similar fashion to another John Hughes classic, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Instead of a day trip through Chicago, they could enjoy the sights and sounds of Fairview. They could fish, play hide and seek in the corn field, or play basketball with the replacement rooster back home.
Things did not work out the way they planned. In a true Ferris Bueller-like ending, the principal decided to go check on the two brothers who “skipped” school. He waited outside for their mother to get home.
Both boys feigned sickness and hid in the same bed. Their mother was not happy to learn about the lunch theft by her five-year-old son. She promised judgment would be swift and sure.
The principal suggested that she ground her son from coming to the school for two weeks. That should teach him a lesson. The single-parent mom had a better idea for a more painful learning experience.
Mother Golsie suggested a two-week suspension from school recess. No, they did not make the kid stay home. Neither did they forbid him to enter the school property.
My dad’s punishment would be to walk to school, sit inside the classroom during recess, and watch the other kids play outside. This would be repeated for the lunch playtime and the afternoon school break.
That is correct. For two weeks. my five-year-old future father would walk two miles to school, three times a day. For what purpose? To sit in the classroom of a school he was not old enough to attend. He was confined to a desk during recess. The desk was placed near a window so he could watch his brothers and their friends enjoying the playground.
Cruel and unusual punishment. The eighth of ten 1791 Bill of Rights amendments to the American Constitution cites that there shall be “no cruel and unusual punishment.” Everyone must be treated equally under the law. If a person has not committed a crime, he should not be punished for it.
Why would this little boy grow up to be an educator? At the age of five, he was commanded to sit alone at a school desk at a school he did not attend during the time of school he loved the most. Why?
I know that little boy. He is inside of me. I have seen him inside my children and grandchildren. It crushed his heart to be banished to the sidelines while others played the sport he loved. It was punishment alright, maybe cruel and unusual punishment. It left a deep impression, not just about school. It taught a lesson about life and loyalty.
Loyalty—the unswerving allegiance of devotion to another person. Loyalty is the mark of love, even in a five-year-old boy.
Loyalty is a diminishing trait in our society and culture. Self-centeredness is on the other end of the spectrum from the loyalty of love.
Some people are loyal to a sports team, brand name, political party, religious denomination,
Loyalty involves a test of love. It is expressed in actions, not just words. Just like in marriage, verbal assurances set the union; visual actions confirm the relationship.
Loyalty is a willing action, not a forced reaction. It eventually requires sacrifice, giving up one’s desire for the welfare of the other person(s).
From the movie, Saving Private Ryan, comes this dramatic exchange between the private and the captain who came to the battlefield to take him home following the deaths of his other brothers.
Private Ryan: “These guys deserve to go home as much as I do. They’ve fought just as hard.”
Captain Miller: “Is that what I’m supposed to tell your mother when she gets another folded American flag?”
Private Ryan: “You can tell her that when you found me, I was with the only brothers I had left. And that there was no way I was deserting them. I think she’d understand that.”
It was a school playground, not a battlefield, that tested the loyalty of this five-year-old brother. There was no way one of them would desert the other.
I do not believe Grandmother Golsie ever heard the true version of this school incident. But she would have understood. Her sons remained best friends all the way to the earthly finish line.
Loyalty to his Heavenly Father and to us marked every step Jesus took on his way to the cross.
Jesus is always a loyal brother. He showed us how to love first and love most. He was willing to die to display undying loyalty.
Jesus was not even in the school of sinners. But He came to be with us. He stepped into our classroom to become our substitute. He willingly accepted our punishment while we enjoyed His playground. Have you thanked Him recently? Ever?
He is the faithful God of steadfast love who keeps His promises to love no matter what (#1 Textbook).
There is no greater love than when one lays down his/her life for another (#1 Textbook).
My dad grew up believing a teacher or coach could make a difference in a young person. He knew there were kids from a single-parent home. Some would become the first in their family to graduate high school or go to college. Some needed to recover from hating school and people in authority.
Even young people headed for school detention, suspension, or just running extra laps around the football field need someone to give them love and hope. Instead of throwing the book at them, someone needs to live out the #1 Textbook in front of them.
For I am convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love (#1 Textbook).
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul (#1 Textbook).
I have hope. I have hope when progress appears suspended or derailed. I have hope in God’s loyalty to me.
I will live and love in that hope, suffer in that hope, and die in that hope.
When I awake in the eternal reality of that hope, I will run into the arms of the God who caused all things to work together for my good. I will shout with joy and be lost in wonder at the wisdom of His steadfast, unending, loyal love.
Remember the most important thing in life: Love God and love others. Those are just words until they are tested with loyalty in action.
Never lose your grip on love and loyalty. Tie them around your neck and write them on your heart (#1 Textbook).
LOVE FIRST...LOVE MOST 