Mister Smith was considered among the meanest teachers at Cody HS. In a time when we had guidance counselors and choice, the strategy was to avoid being assigned to his class if at all possible. But there I was; feeling out of place. The only African American in a class of White Americans who had also drawn the short straw.
Mister Smith seemed out of place as well. He was better suited for some prestigious university where smiles were not allowed and suits, wire glasses, a balding gray head, and a gruff emotionless exterior were prerequisites. The only thing missing was the pipe.
Through fall and winter, it had been his practice to give us a week to complete writing assignments. But an assignment to write about something experienced in the coming weekend, came in the spring one Friday and was to be completed and submitted the following Monday. The topic sounded unexciting and at age 15 my weekends were fairly predictable. Definitely nothing worth writing about.
It rained that weekend, Saturday and Sunday. The kind of rain that alternates between downpour and drizzle but remains steady throughout the day. Unlike some members of my family, I wasn't at odds with the rain. For me, it was more an imposed indoor respite than an imposition on outdoor activities. Long rainy days made me alter course, slow down, and although I didn't understand it at the time--be present. So I wrote.
Mister Smith's assignments were never easy, but this seemed to be a one-off for me. It was my experience, and not that of a historical figure or event. With the exception of one sentence I don't even recall what I wrote but the title was "The Rain".
I think it was Tuesday at the beginning of class when Mister Smith said that before returning our graded assignment, he would read the one paper that was not a disappointment and that had earned an A. Some pretended not to care but I think all of us were curious for several reasons. What kind of writing could please the unpleasable Mister Smith and who among us was the author he was refusing to expose? He pulled a paper from the pile on his desk, stood up caught my eye and began… "The Rain".
