- Man sentenced to 12 years in fatal hit-and-run
- White House fence jumper charged with kicking Secret Service dogs
- Man arrested on child pornography charges
- Woman hit with liquor bottle during home invasion
- Police arrest robbery suspect
- Rockford area trick-or-treat times
- The Odds Man: Three road dogs good bets in NFL Week 8
- IceHogs nipped in third period, return home Saturday
- BGA sues Chicago Police Department over transparency
- Clean water groups highlight progress for Apple River, call for more success stories
To the Editor: What kind of teacher could be a mentor?
Forty years ago, I had a black driver’s ed teacher named Mr. Caldwell, and a white one whose name I can’t remember. Both were top-notch and well respected and liked. But Caldwell impressed me—e.g., when he scolded us boys that it was high time we wore a wallet, anyway.
Or so I thought. I know now, all these politically-correct decades later, he couldn’t possibly have had a positive impact on me: I’m white! Nor, for the same reason, could I ever have really learned much from him: he was black! Nor could he have helped me with my lack-of-self-confidence issues, which I now know white kids don’t suffer from anyway.
Caldwell did exude self-confidence. He was trim, erect, dapper, polite, well groomed and well spoken. But he couldn’t possibly have mentored me in any way, even just by example, because, although I didn’t understand this all correctly way back then, he and I were worlds—or races—apart. Oil and water.
But I assure you, if I, or anyone else, had looked up to him, it would not have been for his salary, but rather only for his unique personhood. That’s something else we were benighted about in olden times: no one was required, or even expected, to carry his whole race, or to bog it down, through a heightened, or an absent, sense of responsibility; to reach down to someone who’s not even reaching up; to “help” by making school less and less what it’s supposed to be.
From the June 23-29, 2010 issue