"My husband and I arrived to the meeting early. We sat at the back and felt a little uncomfortable as the rough and tumble men around us drank coffee and swore. In my mind, it was exactly as I had pictured. Guys with tattoos and motorcycles; men with no jobs, no families and no teeth. Homeless. I didn't expect to learn anything, but was ready to stay for twenty minutes and leave when it was convenient. I never expected what happened next. Several women walked into the meeting. One of them, a nurse, was a beautiful young 20-something that looked like every other Mormon girl around. Several of the women looked my age, perhaps a few years older. Next walked in a young man who looked like he'd just gotten off a mission. My husband leaned to me and asked, regarding the young girl,“Is that one of the girls from your class?”. “No” I said, “I think she's here for the meeting!” The meeting started with a moment of silence. The men who had been so callous before suddenly fell silent as they bowed their heads. The meeting continued by reading the 12 steps. Most of the steps included a statement about God. This, too, surprised me. These members, as one of their 12 steps, accepted that they were powerless to alcohol and gave themselves over to a higher power. How ignorant I had been. I couldn't believe how easily I judged these humble people who were seeking to end a battle that had stolen their lives. It dawned on me that each of these people were my brothers and sisters. Some of them probably had kids going to Provo schools, kids that I might one day be responsible for. I found a new sense of compassion as I heard their stories and listened to their broken hearts.
When Al,
a man who had been sober nine years, got up to speak, I couldn't
believe he had once been an alcoholic. He joked that people often
asked him if he was a bishop because of how he looked, and I had to agree he looked like a typical lawyer you'd find around Utah County. His story made me realize that as a teacher, I have the skills
to intervene and help troubled students in my classroom. Al told us
that he grew up in Provo, right by Kiwanis park. Being the only
non-Mormon in the neighborhood was hard for him, and he always felt
out of place. He physically matured faster than anyone else, and was
always looking for a way to fit in. Finally, he found that alcohol
made him feel like he did fit it. Each time something went wrong in
his life, Al turned to alcohol more and more. Eventually, he couldn't
get out of bed without taking a few drinks, or his hands would shake
so badly that he couldn't move. He went through two divorces and tried to pull off what he referred to as a "functioning alcoholic" front. His story taught me the importance of
my role in seeking out the troubled students in my classroom and
helping them find acceptance and confidence. There is so much I can
do as a teacher to help students who are obvious outcasts among their
peers find acceptance."
WHEW! I am so grateful that I don't drink! The whole time I was there I kept thinking of all the kids I know from high school that are going down this same path, and it makes me so sad. You don't wake up one day and become an alcoholic. He drank in college too, and never thought that he would be lying on his death bed because his kidneys were failing. I just wish more people realized how terrible a disease this is, & maybe they would stop drinking. Sorry for the extremely depressing post, but it was so cool to learn more about social issues surrounding our elementary schools. Promise I won't post this sad stuff again!
WOW Katie, this is awesome!
ReplyDeleteIm a follower!! I'm excited to read about your fun adventures!! I'm thankful you're (and Jon) not an alcoholic either.
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