Jesuit High School Portland, Oregon Summer 2009 Age Quod Agis

Auction ‘09: Paddle RaiseRole ModelreFLecTiON WriTTeN By ANTHONy BLAKe ‘09 ANDPreSeNTeD By HiM THe eveNiNG OF THe Live AUcTiONThe room was muggy as a couple kidsstraggled in with their binders in hand. I tilted back inmy chair, waiting for the last student, who purposelyavoided coming to the library. The day would betough, teaching advanced sixth-graders new mathlessons while helping slower students catch up withthe others. This group of boys was applying foracceptance to St. Andrew Nativity School. The lastboy walked in without his tie and a huge grin onhis face. He shouted, “Mr. Blake, guess what? I didmy homework.” I smiled hoping his statement wasaccurate. He was out of uniform without his tie, butI’d let him pass if he did his homework. I tried tosplit the students up according to their skill level.The advanced students complained about my newworksheets. The rest pleaded their cases about whythey didn’t need help. Volunteering at the middleschool I had attended wasn’t going to be easy.After distributing the papers, I did my bestto imitate a teacher by walking around the room,occasionally peaking over a boy’s shoulder. After fiveminutes, I noticed that a kid who earlier had claimedto do his homework was staring at the picturesof graduates on the wall. In my best stern teachervoice, I told him to focus. He replied, “Mr. Blake Iwas taking a break. Look, I got one problem done.”Immediately every boy yelled how many problemsthey had finished.Realizing everything was a competition, I told theboys whoever completed their worksheet first had lessproblems for homework. Suddenly the group of sevensixth-grade boys looked like scholars with pen andpencil in hand. Inside of me was a feeling of relief; Ifinally got them to focus.Everyone was on task except for Selvin. He hadattention deficit disorder. It was almost impossibleto keep him on task in those conditions: the morningon a hot summer day, wearing uniforms. He blurtedout, “Mr. Blake, is that you up there on the wall?You went to this school right?” I told him I had. Heagain succeeded in disturbing the class. They beganto talk about how small I was and how I had to wear auniform like them.Questions came about being in high schooland reading “long and boring” books. I realizedthe worksheets would have to be delayed. In hopesof bringing the class together, I asked a question Ialways wondered: Who is your role model? Mostnamed rappers or sports players. I remembered beingin their shoes. They talked about their dreams ofgraduating from high school as I sat and stared at thebookshelves.Talkative Selvin was silent. I asked him and heshouted, “You, Mr. Blake. You’re my role model.You’re smart and you always help us even though wenever pay attention. I’m going to be like you.” Therest yelled and told me they’d come to my school oneday. I was speechless. The boys were competing foracceptance to the school. They were sixth-grade kidsdoing math in the middle of the summer hoping to getaccepted rather than go to their local public school.I realized kids without opportunities had to fightfor any chance that came their way. A sudden senseof responsibility was placed upon me. I had to be thatguy they looked up to. No one in my family ever wentto college and these boys were talking about dreamsof finishing high school. I saw myself as one of them,only a couple of years older.Before that day I always wanted to “besomebody” to make my mama proud. From thenon I was going to “be somebody” for the boys whograduated after me. I would make the best of myopportunity. Someday, I was going to graduate fromcollege. Not for myself, my mom or family, but forkids like me who never got the chance. I suddenlydiscovered that my outlook on life was changedbecause of a boy who couldn’t finish his homework.The bell rang and I collected their homework.Unfortunately, Selvin forgot his at home.•23 •