Much More Than Just A Teacher! (Dedicated to Mr. William Cummings)

A couple of days ago, I read on Facebook that the most influential man in my childhood educational days died after loosing his battle with cancer. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I had to read it twice over and I wanted to believe that it was someone's idea of a sick joke; to my dismay it wasn't! As I read the news I felt a deep sadness grip me. At that moment, nothing else mattered in the world...only me and the words I was reading. Suddenly that argument I just had with my friend, and the fact that I was hungry, or missed my favourite TV show the previous night all became irrelevant at that moment! Nothing else mattered.

Those who had the pleasure and privilege of meeting Mr. Cummings will know just what a treasure he was to the educational world and the world in general.

As a teacher Mr. Cummings always did his best by his pupils. Even when you were deliberately messing around in class, he would never write you off. If you went to him for help, he would go above and beyond to make sure you got the best help available. He believed in his students and because he cared so much, it would frustrate him when his students made no effort to 'try' in his class.

It was in year 8 of school when I realised that Mr. Cummings was a teacher that didn't just see me as a statistic. He looked beyond the school league tables and saw pupils as individuals. It was year 8 that I realised how blessed I was to have a teacher that actually cared about me!

All of this first dawned on me when Mr. Cummings noticed my talent for poetry and rhyming. (I would sit in his English class & scribble short poems in the front and back of my English work book.) He called me out on it one day and asked me why my book had so many doodlings and writing on it. I thought he was going to get angry. I thought I was in trouble, but much to my surprise he said that my doodlings and writings were quite good. He praised me for my poetic flair and said that the writings were great pieces of short poetry. He encouraged me to write more. I was surprised. After telling me this he did however advise that I write on proper paper and in my own personal time, not in lesson time. He said that personally he wasn't bothered but just so anyone else in the class that saw my book didn't think that they could get away with de-facing their work book. This made me laugh and it was then I realised what a 'cool' English teacher he was. I was also very relieved that he didn’t give me a detention!

The poems I would write were about life, feelings and emotions; they were my outlet to release all the pains and frustrations I had due to personal family life at the time. I never thought anything of my poetry writing but Mr. Cummings would always tell me that I had a gift.

One day he asked to see my poems so I brought them all from home (roughly a collection of 100 or more at the time) and gave them to him to have a look through. I never expected him to really go through all of them as I knew, being a teacher, he may not have time since he would have loads of student's school work to look through and mark. To my surprise after a couple of days he handed me back all of my poems and every single one of them had been precisely marked as if the collection had been an English assignment that he had made me do. He had made spelling and punctuation corrections as well as made suggestions in the margins of how I can better my poems. I was pleasantly surprised. The fact that someone had taken such a genuine interest really touched me. Nobody had ever read my poetry collection before that day.

To my surprise that wasn't all he did! A couple of months later, he told me he had entered me in for a poetry competition. He didn’t ask my permission, he just said he had entered me and that I needed to write a poem so he could submit it on my behalf. I was shocked... I asked him why he entered me without telling me first and he said because he knew I would say no. He was right, I would have said no and I explained to him why I thought that little old me could never win a poetry competition. He laughed at me and told me that I could do anything I put my mind to. He refused to listen to anymore of my babble and told me that he wanted the written poem on his desk by the end of the week otherwise he would give me a detention. I laughed at him thinking he was joking...surely he couldn't give me a detention for refusing to be entered into a poetry competition that had nothing to do with the school curriculum? My laughter soon disappeared when he gave me quite a serious look as if to say 'don't try me!'  so I went away, wrote the poem and handed it to him by the end of the week to avoid a possible detention hahaha.

Some time passed by and one day Mr. Cummings made me wait after class to talk to me. He told me that I was amongst the winners of the poetry competition and explained how the people who organized the young writer’s competition wanted to publish my poem in their anthology. I couldn't believe it! He then brought out a letter that had all the information on it and sure enough, my name was there. As I read the letter, something made me stop abruptly... The letter said congratulations to 15year old Evangeline... I paused and gave Mr. Cummings a puzzled look. "Sir, I'm not 15... I am 14," I said quietly.

"I know that," he replied confidently.

He then explained that the competition was for 15year olds and over but I shouldn't worry because he had told them I was 15. I looked at him in shock. He seemed to find the look on my face rather amusing and laughed for a few seconds before putting on a straight face and telling me that I should never follow by his example and be deceitful like that. He gave me a lecture about how I should always be honest in life. This just made me laugh, considering what he had just done. He explained that he did it for a good cause and that was the defining moment in my life when I came to understand the phrase that says: 'the ends justifies the means.' Up until that point I previously never understood what that phrase meant.

Mr. Cummings then asked me if I now believed in myself? I was still a bit shocked at everything and just quietly nodded. "Good," he said. Satisfied with my nod, he hurriedly ushered me out of his classroom explaining that he didn’t want to get in trouble with my next subject teacher for making me late to their class. I still couldn't believe it all, until I got a certificate through the post a few days later at home for the poem. I still have the winning certificate from that competition till this day!

This is just one of the many stories that come to mind when remembering Mr. Cummings in my school days. I wanted to share this story to highlight the fact that he was much more than just a conventional teacher. He genuinely cared about his students and pushed them to be all they could be.

Mr. Cummings continued to help me throughout school. Year 10 & 11 of school were really hard for me. It was really challenging because of personal things going on at home. I was becoming so sad with each passing day. I was starting to skip lessons and not show up to school some days. I found it difficult to relate to others and I withdrew myself from my circle of friends (or they withdrew from me...either way) I found myself being an outsider. I was depressed and each day became a struggle to even get out of bed. I hated life and didn't see the point in it at all. I was in a very bad place. My form tutor at the time must have picked up on this because I remember having a serious meeting with her, some other teachers, and my mother. We all met after school. In the meeting they all talked about me as if I wasn't even in the room. There were comments flying around left right and centre; suggestions that I should be taken to see a doctor and put on anti-depressant pills. I remember sitting there, feeling empty, no emotions and not a care in the world. I hated school and would have willingly dropped out if it hadn't been for Mr. Cummings.

Each lunchtime, when everyone went out with their friends for lunch, I had nowhere to go most times and usually no one to go out with anyway, so I would go and knock on Mr. Cumming's classroom door (he was always there for some reason). He would let me sit in his classroom and eat lunch. At first I would laugh at him saying that he lived his whole life in his classroom because whenever I came looking for him, he was always there! I would laugh and joke but secretly I was pleased because it meant he was always around when I needed someone to talk to and help sort out my crazy teenage thoughts about hating school and hating life so much!

I told him about the meeting that had taken place with my mother, form tutor and other teachers and how they wanted me to go on antidepressants. We actually laughed about this. I remember asking him what I should do... I was so lost. He didn't comment much he would mainly listen...but even just listening was a big help. Anything I wanted to talk about...he was always ready to listen. I would tell him about my home life and how the divorce of my parents affected me, how I missed my dad and how our living accommodation over the years had been crazy, how my self-confidence had disappeared and how all the stuff that was going on at home and in my head made me not to care about school or life. He would sit and listen to it all. I must have talked his ears off, my gosh, but not once did he complain or turn me away. He always made time to listen. He would tell me that things don't stay the same forever in life and that I was going through a storm that I had to sit out. He said I should trust him because he was old enough and had experienced enough life to know that things always change and how I felt now, would not be how I feel forever. He would tell me that my education is key to making a better future for myself.

As a young teenager I used to think that he had to say all those things because he was my teacher but because I had so much respect for him and I knew he genuinely cared, I actually paid attention to his words and listened. I resisted dropping out of school because he kept telling me that my education was important. I mean, every adult I met told me my education was important but as a teenager I had this default setting of not listening to what adults said because I genuinely believed that adults didn’t know what they were talking about and they were just silly older people that liked to tell everyone what to do. Mr. Cummings was evidently different. I willingly listened to him. I pulled my socks up (as they say) and put all my effort into staying in school. I did my best to go to each lesson. I owe it to him that I was fast tracked, took my English & Maths GCSE's one year early & left school with 10 GCSE's and grades good enough to go to any college I wanted, despite deliberately not showing up to one of my last GCSE exams.

I owe it to him that I now have a Business degree (grade 2:1), a post graduate diploma in music and artist development, an Early Years Professional Status qualification and I am now studying for my Postgraduate Certificate in Education to gain teacher qualified status...and to think that I was going to drop out of school at the first hurdle! Now that is a crazy thought.

If it weren’t for Mr. Cummings that is exactly what would have happened!

Personally for me, he was so much more than just an English teacher! He was a teacher, confidant & advisor that eventually became a friend when I grew older and left school. I was pleased that I kept in touch with Mr. Cummings (via email) when I left school. I am pleased that I was able to tell him that I went to University, graduated, got married and was still studying. I was pleased that he got to know that his efforts made a huge impact in my life. I was so pleased that he said that he would love to meet up sometime and see me and my husband and catch up over a coffee or something...

Unfortunately this never happened.

You see, I thought we had all the time in the world so I didn't respond straight away. When I did get around to it, quite a few months had passed. His email address had been shut down and that was my only means of communication with him. Just a couple of months ago I was asking some old school friends if they had his telephone number or any form of contact. Unfortunately nobody did. I could have gone to Hackney Free / Urswick School to enquire but I somehow convinced myself that it wasn't that important. I deeply regret not pursuing further.

Even in his death Mr. Cummings seems to have taught me a valuable lesson... much more valuable than any English lesson he taught! News of his death has taught me a huge LIFE lesson! He has taught me to always seize the moment, he has taught me to strike whilst the iron is hot and tell those you care about, just how much you love them and to do it today because TOMORROW IS NEVER PROMISED.

Much love and respect to you Mr. Cummings, may you rest in peace as your legacy continues through your family, friends, & all your students!

We love you.xX

Because of you, I am who I am

Because of you, I was able to stand

Because of you, I never gave up

Because of you, I've ended on top

Because of you, I believe in myself

Because of you & the way that you helped

Because of you, I'm achieving my goal

Because of you, I continue to grow

Because of you, I have made it this far

Because of you, I now shine like a star

Because of you, my very life was saved

Because of you and the impact you made!

Thankyou.xX