Giving Back to Vickie

Hello Blog Readers!

Last week, Cabarrus County truly lost an angel on earth as my friend and former teacher Vickie Honeycutt passed away after a long bout with breast cancer. While we know that cancer can't rob a person of their reward in Heaven, I can't help but be struck with the pain that Vickie's husband and children must be dealing with now. In that sense, Alan, Ashley, & Dane--this one's for you!

Vickie was my friend years before she was my teacher. I grew up in a small Mount Pleasant church, MPUMC, and was in a class of only 4 girls my age. When we went into middle school, Vickie was our Sunday School teacher. We met in the church library, and I remember that on the first day we met, she encouraged us to know that her class would be a place where we would learn about Jesus, but we would also learn about ourselves. She told us we were in a safe place where we could share what was going on in life. She said she wanted us to be honest with ourselves and others and that she would help us navigate the changing world of young teens. She quickly became a friend and trusted confidante.

My sophomore year of high school, Vickie became Mrs. Honeycutt. She was my AP English teacher. Her classroom, as her Sunday School class years before, was a safe place for her students. Oh, she was demanding, and she didn't let her students take her class lightly. She had high expectations, and she wanted each of her students to learn all they could about diagramming sentences, gain a love for poetry and prose, and she instilled a life-long love of journalling in this student. I can't thank her enough for my journal--a Carolina blue (are you shocked) spiral-bound notebook, filled with my thoughts and dreams for the future. In her trademark red fine-tip Bic flair pen, she would write encouraging notes, challenge me to look at a problem from all sides, and exhibit the warmth and love for me that I had always known was there.

Something else stood out about Vickie, however, and that was her deep and abiding concern and compassion for her students' lives. Filled with teenage angst, we would pour into her classroom, ready to read Twelve Angry Men outloud, and she would meet us with a warm smile that reassured us that everything would be alright.

I'll never, ever, forget one day in particular in Vickie's classroom. A girl in my class, one I was not particularly fond of at the time (we were teenage girls after all), learned that her boyfriend had broken up with her during lunchtime. She was incredibly heartbroken, crying, sitting alone on one of the benches near the library. Our English class was immediately after lunch, and the girl did not show up for class. When Mrs. Honeycutt asked where she was and was informed of what happened, she quickly assigned a journal writing project, left the classroom, and went to spend the next 20 minutes with the girl, comforting her and sharing her pain. THAT was Vickie. She exhibited Christ's love on a daily basis for her students and was the model of teaching professionalism and ethics.

Twenty years after graduation, I sit at a computer and share my thoughts, my life, my pain, my joys with those who choose to read my blog. Just as my journals have always been, this is my outlet, my release, and a source of joy for me. I can't help but thank Vickie for inspiring and helping to nurture my love for the written word. I may never be a Faulkner or a Shakespeare, but a writer's truth, a poet's soul, must find ways to be expressed. I am so grateful to Vickie and other English teachers I had (Mrs. Suther, Mrs. Barringer & Mrs. Fesperman) for being the mentors and encouragers in my journey as a writer.

Sitting in the church as hundreds of people paid their respects and mourned Vickie's loss last week, I was struck with the urge to "give back". I needed to find a way to say thank you to Vickie and the men and women who have poured into my life as educators. (Are you one of the people who can literally name every single teacher you've had from elementary through high school? I can, and I can tell you specific stories and lessons I learned in each of their classrooms.) I knew I wanted, and needed, to give back, but how could I possibly honor the lives of those who've meant so much to me?

This past Saturday, I found my answer! I signed up with the Cabarrus Literacy Council to become an Adult Literacy Tutor, and spent Saturday and part of Monday evening receiving training! I will be paired with one of the more than 35,000 American-born residents of Cabarrus County whose literacy rate places them at 5th grade or below. We'll meet and begin the journey of allowing the person to learn to read, write, gain basic math skills, etc. I can't wait until my person can go to a restaurant and read a menu, get a driver's license after taking the test, obtain their GED, whatever their goal is.

Sitting in the classroom on Saturday morning, each of the tutors were asked why they were at the Council--what brought us there? As I introduced myself, I spoke of Vickie, and I shared that I felt it was my tribute to her to help inspire another person to love to read and write, just as she had inspired me.

Vickie, I hope that you're looking down from Heaven and noticing my small tribute to you. Thank you for all you poured into my life. Heaven is all the more beautiful and glorious to have you there. We are all still sad to no longer have you with us, but I and hundreds of your friends and family members have many beautiful memories of you to inspire and encourage us to focus on Desiderata ("those things most needed or desired"). You were right when you shared with us that, "with all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world." I love you and miss you.