I was raised in a house of educators.

My father was a history teacher, a coach and high school principal. My mother was a middle school English and Math teacher and later a third-grade teacher.

My childhood memories are flooded with vivid scenes: afternoons in empty classrooms drawing on the chalkboard; dad's wooden paddle that was signed by all the students it was used on; helping mom decorate her room for the next class of third graders.

For at least part of my childhood my family lived on campus in principal quarters, so I also remember the afternoon school bus line-ups, the late-night alarms blaring on campus (sometimes from the wind setting them off), the walkie-talkies in dad's hand and by the door in their chargers at night, the after-school ballgames, and the endless phone calls from concerned parents.

My sister even went to work for the school system as a computer technician. And for two semesters, I thought I'd follow in the same line of work.

I was a secondary education major at Mississippi State University-Meridian. I still have Social Foundations of Education on my transcripts. I was going to follow in my family's footsteps.

I still remember talking to my dad about my potential career in teaching. I spoke at great length of my aspirations to be a basketball coach one day. During that conversation, he offered me a great word of advice that changed the course of my career: "Son, you don't get into teaching to coach. You get into teaching because that's what you're passionate about; coaching is an after-thought."

And with that, I found my home in my first love — journalism. The thought of being responsible for molding young people's minds frightened the heck out of me. Still does.

Recently, however, I was fortunate to get a small glimpse into what a career in education might have looked like.

I was allowed to be a "Principal for a Day" at Magnolia Middle School in the Meridian Public School District. I was able to shadow principal Jonas Crenshaw and his staff that oversee more than 300 students.

To be honest, I had some preconceived ideas of what I'd find due to stories I'd heard about the quality of Meridian Public Schools.

In the past year, I'd heard all the stories about how bad things were within the school district. What I found, at least at Magnolia, was quite the opposite. Anxious to revisit what could have been my own career path, I quietly observed all of my surroundings. What I saw in one day reminded me of my old school, Clarkdale Attendance Center — a place I treasure.

Magnolia had a small, intimate campus. The facilities were old, but clean. There was a close-knit family atmosphere. There was an ease about the place. And the staff all seemed to be on the same page. There were few disruptions and the morale of the teachers was exceptional.

The technology was great, too. There were nice, new computer labs with flat-screen monitors for all the students. Each classroom appeared well equipped with the tools teachers needed.

But the biggest impressions stuck in my mind from my day strolling the halls: the commitment of the staff to the students and the family atmosphere of the school.

When I arrived, one of the first things I noticed was that Crenshaw had stopped on the way in to work to buy breakfast for his staff. A few staff members munched on biscuits, fruit and pastries in the office before the school day began. He also had a car full of supplies for the day's Thanksgiving lunch. He and other staffers spent the morning decorating the cafeteria with candles, Thanksgiving centerpieces and a sound system playing Kenny G Christmas tunes.

It was simply the staff, under the leadership of Crenshaw and Assistant Principal Rufus Wright, putting forth the extra effort to provide the students with a positive learning environment.

They cared enough to go the extra mile.

Sure, they knew I was coming, but some things can't be faked, especially not in the span of an 8-hour day.

I had several teachers pull me aside to tell me how much they enjoyed working there and how much the leadership of the school was inspiring.

"You can just tell (Crenshaw) cares, and that means a lot to us," one teacher said.

The biggest obstacle facing the school: parental involvement, another teacher told me.

"We just need them to be active in the process," she said. "It breaks your heart that some parents just have this mistrust with the school system, which leads to apathy. Some view school as the enemy."

Lack of parental involvement often comes out with students who don't show confidence in their own abilities, the teacher told me. I saw that with one child I talked to at the end of the day. His teacher informed me he had the highest English and Math scores in his grade.

When I asked him what career he wanted to pursue when he got older, he said, "I'll never amount to anything."

I laughed, thinking he was joking. He wasn't. He looked at me, then down at his feet as he shuffled his shoes on the sidewalk.

"Why do you say that?" I asked. "Your teacher says you have the best scores in the class."

"I don't know," he said. "I just don't see it. I'm OK at tests, but I'm not smart. I’m just not meant to be anything, that’s all."

The exchange was a brutal dose of reality. At age 13 it was as if he carried the burden of a 40-year-old man with a stressful job, endless bills, a family to provide for and kids to raise.

It was the picture of a child without hope. That's something that can't always be taught in a classroom.

But that didn't seem to stop the teachers from believing. Each one I encountered had endless hope. They realize they have an uphill battle, but they're committed to the fight.

They just need more soldiers to go to war with them.

As I left the school that day and headed back to the paper, I reflected on my experience. I thought about the teachers, the kids and the staff members.

I thought about test scores and the difference between scores at this school and similar schools throughout the area. I thought about the different obstacles and issues.

I found no solutions or answers. I did, however, gain a better appreciation for those in the trenches of the fight. I thought about where I'd be if I'd pursued a career in education.

Then I reflected on something my parents told me years ago that rang with much better clarity: teaching is a calling.



Fredie Carmichael is executive editor of The Meridian Star. E-mail him at fcarmichael@themeridianstar.com.