Taking Up for the Underdog

Nov 17, 2024 | by The Fellowship

I have always tried to be there for anyone who needs help. It was my second year of teaching sixth grade in one of the poorest school districts in San Antonio, Texas. My class was one-third Hispanic, one-third Caucasian, and one-third black. Many of the boys were taller and bigger than me. The students’ parents either worked on the Fort Sam Houston Army Base or were part of the military stationed there. During the first six weeks, the principal moved George into my classroom because he was too much trouble for his teacher.

“George is bad,” I was told by several other teachers.

One day I had playground duty with another sixth-grade teacher and she came up to me. “Mrs. Mouth” started talking to me about the students, including George, who were on the playground. I refuse to write the horrible things she was mouthing about our students. I walked away from her and said, “I cannot believe you are saying these things. You need to ask God to forgive you.”

The following day, George and some of the other bigger sixth-grade boys got into a fist fight on the playground. Mrs. Mouth grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the crowd that was fighting. “You need to help get this stopped,” she said.

 “I cannot put an end to this,” was my reply to her. “You should not get in the middle of it either. You may get hurt.” Lifting a frantic prayer to the Lord, I went around the outside of the circle of boys and tried shouting to get them to stop.

Mrs. Mouth plunged right into the middle of the fray, trying to bring the fracas to a halt  on her own. Unfortunately, George had his eyes closed and was jabbing his fists as fast as he could in an effort to protect himself. He hit Mrs. Mouth in the face. Of course, that stopped the fight and the boys ran! I checked on Mrs. Mouth and sent for a cold pack for her face. 

“I am so sorry this happened, Mrs. Mouth, but George did not do this on purpose. It was an accident,” I said. “His eyes were closed!”

Later that afternoon, George and I were called down to the principal’s office. As we left the classroom, a unspoken voice in my mind impressed on me to “take up for George.”

I stopped my student and said to him, “Do not say a word, George! Let me do the talking!”

We entered the principal’s office. He opened the inquiry by addressing me first: “Please tell us what happened!”

My reply was:  “I am sorry for not getting in the middle of the fight, but I was afraid of getting hit. My attempt to coerce the students to stop was unsuccessful.  I warned Mrs. Mouth not to get physically involved because I knew she would likely get hurt.”

 “Did you see George hit Mrs. Mouth?” he asked.

 “Yes, he did. But it was a total accident,” I responded. His eyes were shut and his arms were flailing out to hit whomever he could in self defense. He should not have been fighting, but he did not hit Mrs. Mouth on purpose because his eyes were closed.”

The principal sent George and me back to our classroom. Needless to say, several of Mrs. Mouth’s teacher friends at the school were angry at me. But the bad kid they had put in my class never caused me a problem the rest of the year!

You are a letter from Christ … written not with ink but
with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone
but on tablets of human hearts.  
2 Corinthians 3:3