COLUMN: So God Made A Teacher

*This is an opinion column*

TUSCALOOSA, AL — There was a stretch during my junior year of high school where I'd wear a puffy North Face jacket with a big breast pocket inside that I could use to conceal a plastic soda bottle. From there, I'd discreetly spit tobacco into the bottle while sitting at my desk.

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I was hell on wheels, I admit that.

And it wasn't that I was addicted to the nicotine so much as I was hooked on the thrill of thinking I was getting away with it. Northside High science teacher Jennifer Bible was a good sport about the shenanigans, but was never really fooled.

I remember her stopping me after class when no one else was really around and saying something to the effect of "Do you really think I don't notice you spitting into a bottle?" On several other occasions when I was her teacher's aide, she would remark that I smelled like cigarettes after our break period.

But her keen observations of me were always capped off with a smile and laugh, before telling me to act right for my other teachers. She never once ratted me out to my football or baseball coaches, much less Principal David Patrick — who now serves as deputy superintendent for the county school system and has been in my corner from ninth grade up through my journalism career and into the present day.

I'd insist this very minute — and Jennifer Bible would agree with me if she were here today — that she was one of only a couple teachers who never had a problem out of me. I respected her far too much to disappoint her, after all. I never had an older sibling, but she treated me more like a little brother than the pain-in-the-ass teenager that I was.

Apart from being her teacher's aide, she was patient with me when it came to her anatomy class and often helped me study during her planning period when I should have been helping her grade papers or clean up the classroom.

Other than an astronomy class I took at Ole Miss, Bible's anatomy class was the only other science course I ever received an "A" in and it damn sure wasn't because it was easy for me.

These are just a few of the memories that should tell you a little bit about her and it broke my heart to learn on Thursday that Bible died unexpectedly last night. She was only 48 years old.

I never got the chance to tell her "thank you," so I'm hoping to atone for that egregious oversight by putting thoughts to paper.

With that in mind, it goes without saying that only Jennifer Bible could have gotten that level of effort out of me in a subject that I likely would have struggled with had anyone else been my teacher. I wasn't handed anything by that woman, either.

Every single mark I got in Bible's anatomy class was earned, but it was her encouragement and support at the end of the day that made my success possible. In the years since, I've taught professionally here and there, mostly at the college level, but it was that attitude I always tried to emulate for my students — a complete refusal to give up on you.

It wasn't that I was stupid or even a bad student when I put my mind to it. But high school was a struggle for me as an angsty teenager trying to balance class, guitar, sports, part-time jobs and a social life. So, needless to say it took a Herculean effort from someone like Jennifer Bible to get me interested in anything outside of my own passions.

I'll also be the first to admit that I wasn't a popular commodity among my teachers and justifiably so due to a serious problem with authority that persists to this day and a sharp mouth that has only intensified with age. Still, this kind woman saw something in me that I don't think I was capable of seeing in myself — potential.

A young educator in her early 30s at the time, Bible had been a science teacher at Northside since 2000 and was beloved by students and faculty alike for her empathy, patience and personality. She knew how to talk to kids, particularly one like me who was mad at the entire world most days.

She stood as the polar opposite when compared to the hard-nosed teachers of old. She encouraged debate among students and had an attitude that ensured no student was left behind. Conversely, she knew when to have fun and even let us watch "Chappelle's Show" on slow days when DVDs were still considered an emerging technology.

I'm not an overly religious person, but would like to believe in some kind of higher power that truly does give us the chance to realize our individual destinies. Maybe I'm an idealist but I'd like to think it's a higher being that tries to lead us to being better people in order to have the most positive impact possible on the people around us.

For instance, when God — or whoever — created me, I hope it was with the intention of channeling my inherent skepticism and the fire in my belly to help people with my words — people who may not have a voice or folks who have been marginalized.

To steal and rework a famous radio monologue from the legendary broadcaster Paul Harvey ... "So God made a reporter."

And on the ninth day (since Harvey insists God made a farmer on the eighth day) God needed someone to impart not just wisdom and knowledge to his creation, but love and compassion.

So God made a teacher.

God said I need somebody kind to look the other way when a scraggly-haired student in an Iron Maiden T-shirt shows up to class smelling like an ashtray. God said I need somebody who doesn't care about their salary and who is willing to spend the rare quiet time during their office hours helping a skinny redneck kid memorize the names of human organs because it's a better alternative than that same kid getting into trouble outside of school.

And God needed somebody who would give their unconditional support to even the most loathsome students, no matter how many others had written them off.

So God made a teacher.

God needed someone capable of making decades worth of impact on young minds before even turning 50 years old, to be a guiding presence during their most formative years and to be a reminder of the impact just one person can have on someone's life. God also needed someone capable of dealing with the grief of losing a student only to turn around and be back at work first thing in the morning to comfort the students left trying to make sense of tragedy.

So God made a teacher.

And when God — or whoever — created Jennifer Bible, the Almighty One obviously needed someone with unshakeable compassion, boundless patience and a razor-sharp wit capable of dealing with even the worst among us ... like me.

She was a loving mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend to many, but if there is a higher power gently pulling at the strings, then Jennifer Bible's true unseen purpose can be found in the countless individuals she impacted when they were students.

Personally, I needed someone who believed in me when I wasn't capable of believing in myself, someone who would hold my feet to the fire when I needed it and someone who refused to give up on me well after I had given up on myself.

So God made a teacher.

Ryan Phillips is an award-winning journalist, editor and opinion columnist. He is also the founder and field editor of Tuscaloosa Patch. The views expressed in this column are his own and in no way reflective of any views held by our parent company or sponsors.