TOMMIE SAYLOR: Are you all in, or all out?

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

Martin Luther King, Jr.

By Tommie Saylor

Kennedy High School Principal

I’m reminded of a parable:

A man is walking along and falls into a deep, dark hole. The man is scared, tormented and filled with anxiety and concern, for he believes he will never be able to get out of the hole on his own accord. 

Just then, he sees a stranger walking by and calls out for help. The stranger, dressed in a white lab coat, stethoscope slung around his neck and possessing a distinguished chiseled jaw, neatly cut and groomed salt and pepper hair, and the look of prominence upon his face, studies the situation as the man pleads for help. 

Without hesitation, the stranger pulls from his pocket a notepad and writes a prescription and treatment plan for the man, tosses this plan down the hole, and walks away. 

The man is instantly washed with despair, bringing on a cascade of sweat and nervous twitching. In efforts to calm down the man takes stock of his surroundings, allowing the musky, pungent aroma of decaying soil to fill his nostrils and the surrounding darkness to swallow him whole.

Then it happens again. By grace’s goodness another stranger approaches the hole. The man screams for help, releasing a torrent of pent up emotions purging his soul from the stifling effects of panic and dread. This new stranger, dressed in the finest of wear, sports coat, necktie and shoes that shine with a blackened luster almost to the point of becoming a mirror, studies the man’s predicament with an intense scowl upon his face. 

Suddenly this new stranger retrieves a fountain pen made of gold and a legal pad from his jacket, and begins scribing a bill to be made into law that will most certainly help the destitute man in the hole, and tosses this bill down the hole. He too walks away. 

Once again the man is overcome with horror. “Can’t anyone help me,” he pleads. 

Terror overtakes the man as he begins to claw at the walls of his prison, caking his nails with rich, black dirt as his very essence begins to slip away.

Then, one last time this man was blessed with a miracle. A third stranger stumbles across the hole. This third stranger was a little different than the first two. He’s of more meager means, dressed modestly, haggard by worry lines, long hours and hard work. 

This third stranger introduced himself as an educator, studying the man’s situation with deliberate intensity.  Suddenly, this educator jumps down into the darkened grave-like hole, this cavity of hopelessness, this hollow of despondency, landing with a thud. 

The man’s eyes widen with wonder, his face drawn of all life and distorted in shock, and screams at the educator in a horsey, raspy voice choked with disbelief.

“What are you doing? Now we are both trapped in this forsaken hole.” 

The educator turns to the man, a confident smile crossing his wise and majestic face, and proclaims, “Yes, but I have been down in a hole before, and I know the way out.”

What kind of educator are you?  One who stands at the top of your students’ holes and tosses down lessons and assignments, or one that jumps down into the hole with your students, showing them the way out.

Helping students to find their greatness. Making Kennedy the school of choice. Excellence by design.