Ms. Safford: No One Gets Away with Anything

The second day in Ms. Safford's was much better, but not for the reasons that I would have imagined.

There was this one kid, Nate, who could be a real handful. He just loved to push Ms. A's buttons in my homeroom class. He used to make fun of me, too. He was a real jerk.

But in Ms. Safford's class, Nate met his match. The next day, all of us assembled into our seats. No one made  peep, at least early on. While she went over a lesson, explaining the project that we were going to be working on for the next three days, Nate refused to be quiet. He kept talking out of turn, refused to listen.

Ms. Safford had had enough.

"Young man, go stand in the corner, right now!"

Nate got out of his seat and stood in the corner, facing away from everyone else. That was the first time that a teacher put that kid in his place!

It was really gratifying. Ms. Safford didn't let anyone get away with anything. Instead of afraid, I actually began to feel safe in that class.

Ms. A. was a real push-over in comparison. Students would talk out of turn. When I was going a report on Germany, one student cried out "Oh, you're a Nazi!" Ms. A just tacitly answered, "Excuse you! Go sit outside!" She did not have a commanding presence, to say the least. That one kid, Alfie, also cheated on other kids' tests, but Ms. A. refused to do anything about it.

I remember that she had to shut the class down at least three times in one month because we would get so loud. Then she would relent and let us go back to work. Once, I made an off-hand remark, and Ms. A. humiliated me in front of everyone. She even gave the entire class a ten minute lecture to put me down for the comment that I had made. I never meant anything bad by what I had said -- and at this point, I cannot even remember the comment that I had made, but I can still recall the burning upset I felt because Ms. A decided to put me on the spot.

Ms. Safford never humiliated people, but she would hold students accountable. One kid, Charles, did not have his homework ready for class. When Ms. Safford went around the room to collect the work, Charles just put his head down.

Ms. Safford told the kid to bring his head up. "What's wrong? Look at me!"

He then whispered something quietly, then went back to put his head down. "Oh, you didn't bring the assignment," she mentioned, then she went through the rest of the lesson.

The next week, Ms. Safford assigned another project to the class. She wanted us to make a report on one of the United States. Another student and I, Chris, both chose Virginia. Ms. Safford broke the tie for us. "Which one of you two actually has been to Virginia? There's no point in one person writing a report if the other person has visited the state already." It turned out that both of us had been to Virginia already, so she let both of us do a report.

Charles was assigned California. He chose it, I guess, just because no one else had chosen it before him. So be it, I thought. He should be able to make it interesting. He was one of those kids who exuded a strange kind of ghetto charm, which was strange since he was one of the whitest kids at the school. He used to wear those Cross-Colors and Stussi labels, both of which were prominent and popular in middle school during those days.

By the time that the reports were due, Charles handed his in on time this time, unlike the last time when he had put his head down because he did not have the assignment completed. The outcome was worse for him, though.

"I am not accepting this assignment!" Ms. Safford exclaimed. "Look at the writing! Look at the worn pages. You completed this report for another class a long time ago. I am not accepting this."

For Charles, that was the second time he was held to answer for an assignment, a rare occurrence for us since Ms. A. let most people get away with just about everything, including sub-standard work.

In a quick instant, Charles leaped up out of his seat and shouted in Ms. Safford's face:

"I hate you, Ms. Safford!" then he stormed out of the classroom. I had never seen so much drama in a classroom, before. Never had I seen a student yell at a teacher like that. Ms. Safford took it in stride, motioned for him to go away, leaning back her head a little bit, then continued to  look over the other state reports that she had received from everyone else.

Of course, the conflict that had erupted that day between Charles and Ms. Safford did not cool over night. The next day -- always the next day -- Charles sat down, pretended as if nothing had happened to her yesterday. But Ms. Safford nipped his insolence in the bud:

"Now, you owe me an apology. Or you can go sit in the office for the rest of the class."

Charles bristled, then stormed out for the rest of the class session. "Fine, you old hag! See you later!"

As he stormed out one last time, Ms. Safford fired back calmly, "Adios!"

That was the last the class ever saw of Charles in Ms. Safford's class.

She refused to tolerate any abuse or disrespect from her students. She kept her kids on a tight leash when necessary, but she also demonstrated a profound respect for students who did their work well.  She recognized achievement, even for students who were usually unruly and difficult.