Mr Coleman Monologue

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“Hmmm.” Jerome mumbled. “I can’t write well.”

As I glanced down at his work, I said, “For Pete’s sake!” “What on earth is that?” “Is the student’s first and last name, “Scribble Scramble?”

After Jerome groaned in his first response, I used a firm voice, and I said, “There’s no such thing as can’t.” “Your handwriting is unacceptable.” “You can write better than that!!”

He looked up at me and I knew I had his attention.

“There’s no excuse for your terrible handwriting,” I explained.

That student’s handwriting incident occurred when I worked along with a middle school teacher. My boss, Mr. Coleman, extraordinary social studies teacher, had an impairment in his hands. That disability, …show more content…

While he was in class, every now and then, I used to walk up and down the rows. I checked on the students to be sure they stayed engaged with their classwork, and not social media.

Mr. Coleman was great. In fact, he exposed me to a lot of teaching skills and techniques. He also pushed me toward new learning relating. That history and or social studies, I still use to this day.

What I liked about Mr. Coleman is what he did one day. He sent me an E-mail and told me to attend a teacher’s session. This honorable event was held at the United States Capitol. At first, I thought, “I’m a substitute teacher, not a certified teacher.” I wondered if I would be allowed to attend the prestigious event. I didn’t waste time there; I just took advantage of Mr. Coleman’s …show more content…

If you are a substitute teacher, whatever you do, don’t take your professional opportunity lightly. You add excellence in every classroom that you enter. At this moment, your worth might seem hidden, but if you just wait, keep doing what you do best, all that creativity, and positivity that you planted, will blossom, and nobody, but God, can stop the blooming.

A piece of my blooming included an opportunity to go visit the Capitol. I did not keep what I learned to myself. When I dropped the information in class, the students smiled with amazement.

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Mr. Coleman’s classroom had a special place in my heart. His class is where I met Jerome (that student whose name I thought was “Scribble Scrabble).”

One day, as he mingled with his classmates, I was stunned when I saw his handwriting. Not only was his handwriting horrible, but he also had an enormous challenge as he read. His in-class worksheets looked like he balled them up, and unraveled them before he gave them to his teacher. Mr. Coleman’s concern of Jerome’s classroom performance weighed heavily on his mind. Because he wanted academic success for all his students, he earnestly tried to foster engaging learning tools that would help Jerome; nothing seemed to work. His academics kept on

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