“Once upon a time...and they lived happily ever after.” This is one of the most famous lines in the English language, and for good reason. Children are fed these stories as they grow up, learning from the mistakes of characters, dreaming about fantastic adventures, hoping to reach their own “happily ever after.” However, reality likes to change the script. Sometimes, the story takes a wrong turn just after “once upon a time,” and getting to “happily ever after” seems utterly impossible. This is the situation for the students in “Feed My Lambs.” Life is hard for them, and they are hardly lambs by the traditional sense of the word. Kenny, a drug user. Alexandra, a mother at 15. Couillous, carries a knife to school. Gary, silent, but listening. These are the students of Charlestown High School when Mrs. Asplund-Campbell begins her student teaching semester. Her quest is for the idea or story that can reach them, and the “why” behind all her work. Why even try?
Her “why” slowly emerged, after painful months of hitting walls and getting told no. She began to see her students in the light of their struggles and their needs. They weren’t conventional lambs, but they needed something nonetheless. She needed to feed the lambs.
This isn't the first time the request has been made, “Feed my lambs.” Christ first put it to His disciples, asking them to find the people who needed nourishment, to bring them back into His fold. These were the people who needed to know they were part of something greater. These were the people who needed to know they weren't alone, and that there was hope. According to this definition, Mrs. Asplund-Campbell's students fit the bill. But what could possible satisfy her students hunger? Her answer came in the form of a book. At first, “Night” by Elie Wiesel looked like a good choice. In Mrs. Asplund-Campbell's own words, “It's short, interesting, fits in with my theme. It has the requisite violence to captivate my students. And I have sixty copies.” In this way, the surface level hunger was taken care of. What she didn't expect, however, was for the pattern to continue, and a deeper realization for her students to occur.
The topic of discussion that day was Elie’s reactions to two different hangings. The first was a hanging for a rebel who was discovered by the Nazi forces. The second was a boy who was unfortunate enough to be connected to the rebel. The difference between the two was the level of fear and disgust that Elie felt. The first was just a hanging, normal for the Nazi concentration camps. After the second, however, “the soup…tasted like corpses.” Without warning, quiet Gary spoke up, and gave the reason for the differences. “I think that Elie saw himself dying on that rope.” There it was. Just as Elie saw himself in the shoes of the boy, Mrs. Asplund-Campbell's students could see themselves in the shoes of Elie. This was not some pleasant fairy tale, but it was proof that someone, somewhere knew the pain that those students knew, and this someone lived to tell about it. There was the confirmation the students needed.
Mrs. Asplund-Campbell left that year with a “Thank You” card in hand, given to her by the students who made her life miserable only months before. Just as there are unconventional lambs, there can also be unconventional “happily ever after”'s.
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I loved this story - I had actually read it by accidence, just flipping through our book. Education is such a huge thing for me, and over the years I have developed such a passion for creating that equal opportunity for all. Education can create such a difference in students' lives and they don't even realize it. If anyone is interested, look up the documentary "Corridor of Shame" - it's about the education level in South Carolina and after I read Asplund's story, I just had to go back and watch the clip they have on the internet. Reading stories like this makes me want to DO something, not just sit back and wish that education could be different.
ReplyDeleteThis excerpt was very moving to me. Asplund-Campbell has incredible insight and a powerful writing style. I was particularly touched by the comparison of society’s neglect of these troubled teens to a holocaust. So many people, even in America, suffer quietly, ignored by their self-preserving neighbors.
ReplyDeleteI have had the opportunity to volunteer at a homeless shelter. As I walked down the narrow hallways, I saw young children caring for their even younger siblings. They were in various states of disarray, some half-dressed, others developmentally delayed due to neglect.
But who was backward? For all of the hours I had spend studying, there lessons that these children knew that I had never learned. They saw the harsh realities of life; betrayals, hunger, loneliness, fear. What could I say? What could I do to help them?
Then a little girl, probably around three, took my hand and guided me to a toy cash register in the common playroom. I played “house” with her, and together we imagined her into a house of security and love that she had probably never known. She giggled and smiled, starved for attention. When other children tried to enlist me in their game, she anxiously brought me back to play with her. I had found my lamb.
Regardless of experience, situation, or personal flaws, all children need to feel loved. They are so very precious to our Heavenly Father. This article reminded me to open my heart and do all that I can to feed the lambs.
I really loved this story. It really made me think about all the people out there who aren't given opportunities to learn and to grow, and who live in bad environments.
ReplyDeleteI went to school in an area that wasn't so great once. It was my first high school. There were a lot of gang members there. People smoked on school grounds, and teachers who passed by wouldn't say anything. About the strictest thing we had was a dress code, but even that didn't keep the gang activity under control. School was actually cancelled one day because there was supposed to be a gang fight. Fights were not uncommon; they happened more often than not. There were very few AP classes offered, and the selection of honors classes was pretty poor as well. It was not a very good school. My family moved halfway through my sophomore year because of the schools.
I never understood the people who went to that school. I lived across town, closer to another school where gang members were not the norm, but I was still somehow zoned for the gangster high school that desperately needed a new building that we were never going to get. I hated that school and took all honors classes whenever they were offered. I joined the marching band and hid in the band room whenever I didn't have to be in class at that school. The marching band and honors classes had the fewest gang members in them. I always made sure that I had someone who was not a part of the gang culture that I could sit with at lunch, when I couldn’t hide in the band room. I didn't understand the people who lived in the bad part of town. I just did my best to ignore them and prayed that I would be able to get out of that school soon.
This story helped me to finally understand some of what these people went through. It finally helped me to see that the people there just needed someone to really help them out. They'd never had that before. I knew so many people who had suffered and seen terrible things, but I never understood until I read this story. It made me realize that I should have tried to help them instead of just ignoring them. I should have done more and tried to apply Christ's teachings to feed the lambs into my life. This story made me really want to try to help those people who aren’t offered all of the wonderful opportunities that I have been offered.
Reading Asplund-Campbell's Feed My Lambs was really an eye opener. I have been fortunate to never be in a situation where my education was compromised because of family or economic situations. I never had to work to pay my family’s rent or have a child while I was in high school. I could never imagine that kind of life. However, I was impressed by the characters’ resilience in this story. Alexandra had a child and had a good reason to drop out, and yet she came back to school three days later. Gary never appeared to pay attention, and yet he was listening enough to make a comment that impressed not only his peers, but his teacher, as well. Couillous carried a knife, possibly for protection, and yet he orchestrated all the students signing a card for their teacher at the end of the semester. Asplund-Campbell's Feed My Lambs helped me better understand the power of resilience.
ReplyDeleteThe whole time i read this story, i was thinking of the movie "Freedom Writers." The teacher, Erin Gruwell, finds herself teaching at Woodrow Wilson High School. She is assigned to teach the lowest achieving class. No one believed the kids in room 203 could be something someday. The students themselves didn't feel they were worth anything but, as a true leader, Erin Gruwell saw the potential in her students and refused to give up on them. She miraculously got them to read Romeo and Juliet (related it to their gang wars), The Diary of Anne Frank, and Night. She related all these books to their current circumstances where the classroom was a place where you had to sit by a member of another gang who probably was responsible for the death of your best friend. Miss Gruwell wouldn't accept failure for her students and eventually brought them together into one big family by focusing on their similarities, not their differences. The class ended up staying together throughout the rest of high school and every one of her students graduated.
ReplyDeleteI also thought of "Freedom Writers" most the time I was reading this. I actually thought that "Feed My Lambs" might be what "Freedom Writers" was based off of, but then Asplund-Campbell moved to Utah, so I guess not.
ReplyDeleteI really liked this article. It makes me wish I was more accepting in high school. We had gangs, not nearly as bad as in "Feed My Lambs," but we still had them. I would go between my honors and AP classes, avoiding the looks of anyone potentially dangerous, at least up until my senior year. I didn't care as much then, and I was friends with enough people that we could pass between classes in groups. They were still there, though. It's really sad, because my reaction has carried over into college, too. If I'm approaching someone on the sidewalk I'll look quickly and then look away or down and pretend I never looked at them. It's a sad habit. Not only are we all children of God, but most everyone at BYU KNOW it. I should just smile and wave. I did that yesterday, you know. I felt surprisingly happy afterward. This life is too short to feel awkward around strangers.
I think what I loved most was the honesty that she wrote with. She was not a hero in this story, this wasn't just a version of "Freedom Writers." She doesn't know if she changed their lives, their year, their 45-minutes. But it changed her perspective.She was introduced to the realities and the real meaning of teaching.
ReplyDeleteI was born in Minnesota and after 3 months of living there, my family moved to Utah. I have lived here ever since. The majority of my life took place in "Happy Valley Utah". This is where I grew up. I don't know what it is like to go to a school where almost every student at school has some major problem. In my schools, it was rare when a girl got pregnant. It was a little more common to see a fight at school, and even slightly more common than that: know people who were addicted to drugs.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read this, it touched my heart. It made me grateful for the situation I grew up in. I knew that there were schools like that, and I have always been grateful to grow up in a situation like I did. The thing that I loved though was that courage of that woman. The courage she exhibited to continue teaching those kids.
I get attached to people too easily. If I taught in a school like that, my heart would break. Every day I would have a mental and spiritual break down because I would love those kids way too easily. My heart goes out to those teachers, and I'm grateful for their example to me of persistence. I'm grateful for their persistence in teaching those kids and being a good example to them. The world needs more people like that, and I only hope that I can become someone brave enough to make a difference like that in this world.
I love stories of teachers and education, because, like Erin, it is something that I am particularly passionate about.
ReplyDeleteI guess, in my own experience, I got a taste of both sides. My high school was odd in that half was the extremely rich part of town, and the other half was the slums -- I was the very rare in between. So, I could see the problems of the kids from the bad side of town. They couldn't care less about school because no one could understand them, and what use was school anyway when you weren't good at it? I watched these kids throughout high school fall into drugs, gangs, alcoholism, and all other kinds of atrocities. But every now and then, I saw them light up in class if a teacher cared.
And that's what it comes down to -- the level of caring in the teacher. In my experience, most teachers couldn't care less and were only present for the pay check -- I love learning, and even I hated those classes. But as soon as a teacher decided he or she was teaching people, the entire situation was altered.
I want to become a teacher myself, and Marni Asplund-Campbell's story really spoke to me about what it takes. It's not an easy job -- she makes that clear. But I think it a job 100% worth it.
Jesus, the ultimate teacher, left as his last commandment the charge to go out and teach. Everyone has something they can teach someone else, and I want to make sure I find my niche, and make Heavenly Father proud.
I've seen a movie recently that had almost this same story line. I wish I remembered the name. Anyway, it was very touching, and made me emotional. The thing I think of here is to never give up on someone, no matter how hard they seem on the outside. I have seen this in the lives of my family members, that although they have piercings, tatoos, and rough lives, once someone takes a chance on them in makes the biggest difference in the world. NEVER give up on someone.
ReplyDeleteI love this!! I’m an elementary education major, and I think that education is so important. I agree that good education can create such a difference in the life of a child. It really does make me sad to think that some people around the world don’t have the same opportunities for good education. I also thought of “Freedom Writers”. I love reading stories where a teacher persists and is finally able to get across to the students. Some students need a little extra attention, and some just need a different learning approach. It really is so important though!! Quality teachers and education will lead to quality life in the future. I love the quote from David O. Mckay that says, “I think it must be apparent to every thinking mind that the noblest of all professions is that of teaching, and that upon the effectiveness of that teaching hangs the destiny of nations.”
ReplyDeleteThis essay was not what I was expecting from my connotations of the title. I found it quite interesting none the less. I want to be a band teacher, so it struck me particularly. I have known through my very own un-perfect un-disciplined band that teaching would not be easy. I have known that there would be issues that I would face with my un-perfect students. I have also thought a lot about how I would make the class of junior high students enjoyable to them. I know that if they don’t enjoy it, they won’t stay. I think it is quite different from English, where the student’s are required to take it. I think that is both a good thing and a bad thing. Band teachers have to worry about keeping their students and English teachers have to worry about keeping the students, who would not be there if they had their choice, alive. I admire her and think it was really neat to have that card presented to her at the end.
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