Rain Reflection #1

It's raining today.

The light of the day is dark and my mood sinks.

Then I remember Steve.

I worked with Steve at the Governor's School on the Environment. His enthusiasm for learning, his wild sense of humor, and his expansive physicality left me--a young teacher--in awe. When talking about his travels, he would suddenly lurch into an impression of an elephant: his right hand on the right side of his rib cage was the elephant's ear, while his left shoulder met his nose to be come the elephant's trunk. Noises and movement followed.

Steve taught us how to play dominoes like they do in Costa Rica, slapping the tiles down with frantic speed. When describing something from World War II, he'd tell you that Truman said to Hitler, "DON'T EVEN." (You have to say this out loud to understand the effect.)

Steve taught high school in West Deptford, NJ before he retired--we're not sure, but we think his wife bought him a cabin in Montana. He grew up in Paulsboro, right near WDHS and except for his travels--teaching exchanges in Russia, fly fishing vacations in Montana--he stayed in the same area his entire life. Paulsboro is a tough little town off 295 S: a Sunoco oil refinery emits a tangible smell, home values are often 60% lower than the rest of the state, and young people try to make it through and get to somewhere else. Steve and his 8 siblings were raised by a single mother, and for him, this was a badge of honor, a detail he bragged about, as if every time he mentioned his mother's accomplishments she rose further in his esteem.

I taught with Steve for about six years, and here's my favorite memory.

Rain.

There'd been no rain that spring or summer yet. Now here is was. Torrential rain. The faculty clustered in a group, soaked through our rain gear, trying to decide if we should still hold class out in the field. Steve approached, walking sprightly in his full-length, bright yellow raincoat.

"This is great!" he said. "We need the rain."

I looked at Steve. In that moment, things changed for me.

It's a choice: how to see the world.

Dreary rain?

Necessary rain.

A wonder and a blessing.