Sometimes a Great Moment

By TAD BARTIMUS

In the midst of our holiday rush we paused to honor friends at their mid-year graduate school commencement. Months ago, when my husband and I accepted the invitation, we'd secretly thought the hours we were taking away from our shopping-baking-wrapping-decorating-delivering routine might shortchange preparations for the holiday season.

We were wrong. Instead, they gave us our best gift.

Beth and Grant Senner co-teach fifth grade in our rural public school. For the past three years they've spent all of their spare moments working toward their master's degrees in education. Every Friday they'd jump in their 10-year-old car and drive two hours to a college campus to carry a heavy load of credits. To save money, a friend lent them her spare room near the campus; to be good guests, they always hauled their own sheets and towels.

They went to class four hours every Friday night, then six more hours on Saturdays. Sundays meant focusing on chores and college homework, and preparing for the coming workweek.

Just watching them wore us out; we marveled at their commitment. They could almost never "come out to play," but never complained. Why were they doing it, we asked? My husband, who teaches sixth grade, and I know firsthand that advanced degrees mean little extra money in modest paychecks.

"Because we want to be better teachers," said Beth. Her answer was explanation enough for those who've chosen the same financially difficult but spiritually rewarding path.

Both Beth and Grant came late to the profession. She was a hairdresser for 16 years before she met Grant, who was working on boats in the Caribbean. Together, they returned to her Michigan hometown and enrolled in college. With no children of their own, they now sponsor a myriad of extracurricular activities and lavish attention on other people's kids.

Joining other family and friends in the auditorium, my husband and I were thinking more of the celebratory dinner than the ceremony. In just a couple of hours, we thought, we'd be eating kung pao chicken. And we were. But the Chinese-food feast was an anticlimax.

The graduation turned out to be inspiring, uplifting and full of surprises. There were just 40 students in the processional. Three students spoke for their peers. Feso Mulimauga Malufau, a student in midlife, said he was the first in his extended Polynesian family to receive a college degree (Bachelor of Arts, Liberal Studies) and that without his relatives' financial and moral support he would never have made it.

Theresa Ann Gelgate blew a kiss at her husband for taking over household responsibilities for their three children so she could continue to work full-time and also study for her Master of Business Administration degree, which she earned with high honors.

Full-time nurse Sandy Dioso simultaneously achieved Bachelor of Education and Master of Education degrees. The students' and teachers' paths, she said, were "trying and, at times, difficult ... But we have persevered, and within the scope of this perseverance we have grown beyond comprehension. Education is a matter of building bridges that lead toward endless outcomes."

Although she was speaking about her teachers, she was also passing a torch to the newly degreed masters of education facing her in their caps and gowns:
"A teacher," she said, "knows your weaknesses but shows you your strengths, feels your fears but fortifies your faith, sees your anxieties but frees your spirit, recognizes your disabilities but emphasizes your possibilities.

"The seasons do not push one another; neither do the clouds race the wind across the sky. All things happen in their own good time. And it is, finally, our time ... THIS IS A GREAT MOMENT."

Commencement. To commence. To begin. Beth and Grant Senner, Sandy Dioso and their peers will now commence to share all that they have learned. Could there be a better time for idealistic, determined men and women to commence such an awesome task than now, when dark shadows hover over our minds as well as over our planet?

Thank you, Beth and Grant, for gifting us with your commencement. Thank you for reminding us that not only do teachers touch the future, they believe in it.

© 2002 The Women Syndicate

Send your own great stories – 300 words or less – to friends@tadbartimus.com or write c/o The Women Syndicate, P.O. Box 728, Puunene, Hawaii 96784. Thanks for sharing.

© 2002 The Women Syndicate. The content on these pages is the property of The Women Syndicate and may not be used without express written permission. Contact friends@tadbartimus.com