Robby Daniels

Fifty years ago, Wayne and I moved to Tucson, Arizona, eight-month Hillary in tow. We drove across the country from Maryland in our 1972 MGBGT, pulling a small tent trailer. So much for child safety seats: Hillary either slept and played in a swing seat basket on the back seat or sat in my lap. Fortunately, we all survived. We purchased a house ($19,900), using the VA loan Wayne earned through four years in the navy. No air conditioning, but we were young. And hot.

For three years, we taught at Green Fields School – he full time and me part. I did not yet have a degree. Working the hours we did in such a close environment, we got to know our students well. Despite tiny classes, the range of ability and interest was huge.  Quite a challenge for brand new teachers. Wayne taught history and Russian and coached various teams. I coached, taught PE and a non-credit, elective class called (are you ready for this?) People’s Awareness. It was the early 70s… We learned a great deal about our students and about ourselves.

We remain connected to some of our former students. Memories of many are vivid. We follow some through Facebook. Some have disappeared. A couple of favorites have died. There are some for which we have no idea of their whereabouts. It is highly likely they have no idea how much we cared about them then and now.

Robby Daniels was such a person. I do not recall the specifics of why he was living with his grandparents, but it is fair to say that the perception was his parents didn’t/couldn’t have him around. Tough for a teenage boy, or anyone, for that matter. He was not “easy” in a traditional sense. He was not a dedicated student nor a promising athlete, but he remains a favorite for three reasons. Two are things he did with and for our daughter; the third is what Robby taught me about the inside of a boy, as it were.

Green Fields School traditionally kicked off each school year  by taking the entire student body (grades 3-12, 80 students, max) for a 3-day camp out up Mt. Lemmon, a respite from the August heat. The trip was an all-hands-on-deck affair, with all faculty members in attendance and assigned to various camping, climbing, hiking duties. Because Wayne and I were both teachers, Hillary went with us. Frankly, I don’t recall who took care of her while I was belaying students all day, but I remember vividly the drive back down the mountain the last day.

 I was driving our Ford pickup (MGBGT blew an engine once we reached Tucson), with Hillary in a car seat. Robby Daniels and some other student rode in the pickup bed. The road is a very winding one, and about halfway through, Hillary threw up all over the place. There was not much I could do. No water to clean her up. No way she could continue in the car seat. So Robby snuggled her onto his chest and let her sleep, vomit-soaked clothes and all. He did not complain. He did not want special thanks. He simply took care of our little girl.

Fast forward eight months to baseball practice after school. Wayne coached. Hillary, by then fifteen months old and slow to walk, and I were watching practice. Suddenly she rose to her feet and trotted off to explore. Her very first steps. Second to notice after me was Robby Daniels, who hollered with huge delight for everyone to watch. He was thrilled. No sign of the contemptuous, withdrawn young man he could sometimes be.

I think of Robby Daniels frequently. Far more than he could possibly imagine. There have been many students along the way who allowed me a glimpse of their cores. For some, doing so is easy. For a child who feels abandoned, the walls can be nearly impenetrable. As adults, it is easy to stop at those walls and not even try to find the chinks. Robby let me in.  More accurately, Robby cared enough about a tiny child’s comfort and progress that he  let her in and ˆdidn’t even try to mask that warmth. Robby was the first of many who taught me to believe in the goodness of young people and to look for ways to give them a chance to do the right thing.

We loved working at GFS for three years. Loved our colleagues; loved the students; loved Tucson in general. We were challenged in good ways to learn as fast as we could how to be good teachers. We camped with kids, coached kids, traveled with kids, shared their lives with our small cadre of colleagues. Those years were invaluable and treasured. I finished my degree at The University of Arizona, and we had Allison three weeks prior to my graduation. Life was busy then and has been busy ever since.

We are back in Tucson. We bought a house for considerably more than $19,900 – and it’s air conditioned, so there is that. It feels like coming home. We have already reconnected with some folks with whom we taught five decades ago. We hope to reconnect with former students. I would love to know where Robby Daniels is. It’s about time I thank him for the gifts he gave me as a young teacher and mother.