A short lesson in respect meant to last a lifetime

By PAUL DELANEY

Staff Reporter

In the daily flood of stories that makes headlines these days — be they real, rushed or contrived — one stood out last week.

And I can tell you it was not for reasons that may be at all obvious.

The appearance by U.S. Education Secretary Betsy DeVos on May 9 as the commencement speaker at Bethune-Cookman University in Florida drew boos, cat-calls from an audience largely composed of those graduating from college.

Been there, done that I recalled — when I was about 10.

Still, over 50 years later, the incident is etched firmly in my mind. We were gathered in the gymnasium at St. Charles School for a Friday afternoon assembly in February to watch a magician.

Mind you, this was a Catholic school where nuns taught in rooms of sometimes 40 or more students — I know because I have class pictures and counted in amazement — and every ounce of any day was vital for learning.

But anything was better than more time in class under the often evil stare of the nuns whose habit revealed only their face. The answer of whether they had a full head of hair, or if it was shaved to Army recruit length, remains a mystery to this day.

But a handful of smart-asses, myself included, did our best impression of Bethune-Cookman students and for some ungodly reason blurted out a round of boos during the performance. How fast does it take to silence a room of 300 squirming grade schoolers? There is no timepiece made to measure how pin-drop quiet it became.

As we returned to our classrooms — and the weekend just minutes ahead — the knowledge of pending punishment for the perpetrators of this prank accompanied us.

Once back in our desks, the silence was soon broken by an announcement out of the scratchy speaker with words that no one was going to be leaving until those responsible for the boorish behavior came forward.

It did not take long for the peer pressure to reach critical mass, especially when one of your classmates was Mike Gleason, who always seemed twice everyone’s size and had a short fuse.

I remember raising my hand, maybe not first, but I’d like to think so. Soon a couple of buddies did the same and the rest of the class was released.

What followed was one of the best (or worst) lessons I ever received in the consequences of bad behavior. It far surpassed the impact of the several “bend over and grab your ankles” hacks I received in high school.

Nope, it was not writing on the blackboard or in notebook paper 500 times, “I will be respectful at all times.”

The punishment for our trio was to return to school on Saturday. We were to meet with the custodian, grab buckets, rags and squeegees and tend to the task of washing every window in the school, inside and out. Mind you, “St. Chucks” as we referred to our beloved school was built in the 1960s and was almost ALL windows.

And remember, it WAS February, and my-oh-my did it seem particularly cold that day. Of course, rubber gloves were not an option. Aside from the obvious lesson this exercise taught, it may have also been that day where I was afflicted to my aversion to washing dishes in the sink to avoid “dishpan hands.”

Of course having anyone with ties to President Donald Trump speak these days, especially in front of fragile “snowflakes,” is tossing gasoline on the fire.

But heaven forbid someone offer an alternative thought to fixing the generally horrible state of many inner-city or rural schools where some Bethune-Cookman students might have come.

It’s insane to me on the surface how this public show of disrespect, regardless of who was speaking, was allowed to go on in the first place. Come on, we’re not silly pre-pubescent boys.

As the crowd continued its juvenile behavior, university president Edison Jackson took over the microphone to sternly warn the 2017 grads.

“If this behavior continues, your degrees will be mailed to you. Choose which way you want to go,” Jackson said in an Associated Press story.

If I were B-C’s prez, well, I would have scheduled some one-on-one time, no matter how long it took. As I handed out sheepskins, I would want to find out what was going through their minds, and if this is how one treats a person with which they might disagree.

But the best ending would have been if the nuns were in charge that day.

Paul Delaney can be reached at [email protected].