The Size of Your Dreams - - (large screen ebook reader .txt) 📗
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Darnell exhaled loudly. “No, I’ll stay here.”
“Anyone else?”
So far, I really couldn’t say that I liked Mr. Griffin—he was like a mosquito that kept buzzing in my ear. Yet, he was intriguing. I doubted he’d ever bring us to the profound life transformations he promised, but no other teacher had ever attempted to. And…what if he did? Images of my nightmare in the cubicle wafted through my mind. My future vision could use some refining. It was worth a shot.
When no one said they wanted to transfer, Mr. Griffin said, “Just remember that you’re not trapped. You’re choosing to stay here.”
“I still feel stuck to this contract,” Darnell said.
“Yes, I know. It’s written in your posture. The more ownership you take over your decisions, the straighter you’ll sit in your chair. Besides, being stuck is not the worst thing. Sometimes I intentionally get myself stuck.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“I do it for motivation, and to force myself to find new answers.”
“How can getting stuck motivate you?” Christy asked.
“It’s like when Cortez burnt his ships upon landing in Mexico in 1519. The message to his men was clear. You can’t back out. Succeed or die. I’ve used that technique on myself, though with less dire consequences.”
“Like when?” Christy asked.
“I used it in college when trying to lose weight.”
Darnell’s head tilted up. “You, lose weight?” He scanned our lean, muscular teacher with cold eyes.
“You might not guess it looking at me now,” Mr. Griffin patted his stomach, “but I used to be over 100 pounds overweight.”
“Really?” Darnell was easily that overweight himself. “How did you lose it?”
“I tried diet after diet. I must have lost the same five pounds ten times, but I always put them right back on.”
“So how’d you keep them off?”
“I backed myself into a corner. I made sure that I had two options, weight loss or a fate far worse than hunger.”
“Like what?” Darnell asked.
“I made a list of all the foods I knew I needed to avoid, and I gave a copy of the list to all of my friends, plus a few people who were anything but my friends. I told them all that if they caught me eating anything on that list, they could make me eat whatever they wanted.”
“Anything?”
“Anything that wouldn’t injure or kill me. One day I was walking with my friend Andres, and we passed some fresh dog poop on the ground next to a hamburger stand. Andres asked them for a paper plate and a spoon, and scooped the poop onto the plate.” Mr. Griffin cringed. “He waved it in front of me, telling me how much fun he was going to have watching me eat it all.”
“Gross!” Jarod pretended to puke behind his desk.
“You never did, did you?” Christy asked.
“No. I lost the pounds, and Andres wound up with stale dog poop in his fridge. A couple of times I came close to cheating, and each time all I had to do was think of that plate of dog poop. Just knowing it was there, waiting for me, was enough to keep me on my diet.”
The bell rang.
“I trust you’ve all had a memorable day. Next week we’ll start working on your cards. And don’t worry. The 30 days haven’t even started yet.”
“When do they start?” Christy asked.
“Everything will be just like it says on your contract.”
“Where?”
Mr. Griffin’s smirk returned. “On the other part you didn’t read.”
Sink or Swim
I was curled up on the couch reading The Martian and trying to avoid thinking about Mr. Griffin and his sleazy contract when Dad walked in. He wore the same old khaki pants and a wrinkled button-down shirt. At least he didn’t have acne anymore, though the pockmarks on his face showed that his skin had looked just like mine back in the day.
“Hi Kelvin,” he said.
I didn’t even look up. “Hey.”
“How was school?”
“Fine.”
“Liking the new math teacher any more?”
I didn’t want to go there. “Eh.”
“So…a physicist from London is lecturing at the university about black holes next Friday evening. Want to go?”
While half the senior class was at some party? “Nah.”
“You’ll be sure to get sucked in.”
It took all my strength not to roll my eyes.
“I don’t need to know until late in the week. You think about it until then, okay Kelvin?”
“Sure, Dad.”
I felt him standing by the doorway, stalling. I guess Dad couldn’t think of anything else to say, because after a minute, he continued on towards the kitchen.
* * *
“How about you, Christy. You have something you’d like to work on?”
It was Monday afternoon. Mr. Griffin just got through explaining the “rules.” Each of us would start our 30 day period as soon as we chose our goal. He didn’t want us to wait too long, or else we’d lose out on precious time. One goal immediately came to my mind, but there was no way I was going to discuss it in front of the class. When asked, I just lied and said I couldn’t think of anything. Fortunately, Mr. Griffin moved on to Christy to find his first sucker.
“No, I don’t have anything,” Christy said.
“Nothing?”
“Nah. I had one, but I gave up on it.”
“What was that?” Mr. Griffin asked.
“Last year, when coach appointed me captain of the girls’ swim team, I made it my goal to win the State Championship this year.”
“Why’d you give up on it?”
“You didn’t hear what happened?”
Mr. Griffin rubbed his chin. “Was that the drunk driver?”
Christy nodded and tears collected in her eyes. “Coach was killed the week before school began.”
“They haven’t given you anyone else?”
“No.” Christy shoved her hands into the narrow gap between her crossed legs. “I approached the athletic director, and he said he didn’t have the time to get someone new. I learned later that they used most of the budget to get an extra assistant coach for the football team.”
“Don’t they legally have to give you a coach?”
“Yeah. There’s this lady who works as a pool attendant who said she’d be willing to accompany us to meets, so he gave her a tiny salary and appointed her as our official coach. She doesn’t do anything though.”
“So who runs practice?”
“Jill and I. Jill is my co-captain. But we don’t know what we’re doing. The older girls aren’t making any progress, and the younger ones are completely lost.”
Mr. Griffin leaned on the edge of his desk. “Tell me about your coach.”
“Coach Silver was amazing. When she made me captain and told me she wanted to win States this year, I actually thought we had a chance.”
“And now?”
Christy shook her head. “Now we’re hopeless.”
Mr. Griffin swept his eyes over the entire class. “You get what you settle for.”
Christy’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“You probably think that you gave up on your goal because it went out of reach. I expect it’s the opposite: your goal left your reach because you gave up on it.”
“Our coach died!” Christy’s tears spilled down her cheeks. Why was Mr. Griffin being so heartless?
“Did you only want to win for the coach?” he asked.
Christy mumbled, “Of course not. For all of us.”
“Then why give up just because you lost your coach?”
“We’re not giving up. We’re just hopeless.” A new rush of anguish overcame her.
“Hopeless. An interesting choice of language. You didn’t say you’re incapable. After all, you have the same athletes on the team that you had before your coach died, so if you had the physical capabilities to win before, you’ve still got them now. As you point out, what’s changed is your belief in yourselves. You no longer have hope.”
“What’s changed,” Christy sat up straight and drove her words like daggers, “is that our coach is dead! We’re lost without her.”
Mr. Griffin kept his cool. “I’m not saying that your path is without challenges. But after all, there’s little thrill in achieving easy victories. My goal is to stretch you, to show you that you’re capable of achieving so much more than you realize.” “I know what the team is capable of, Mr. Griffin, and the championship is beyond us.”
Mr. Griffin sighed and went to the whiteboard. “I want you all to remember this quote.” He wrote down:
The Size of your Dreams must always exceed
your current capacity to achieve them.
—Ellen Johnson Sirleaf
“Who is she?” Christy asked.
“The first woman ever elected President of an African nation. She also said, ‘If your dreams do not scare you, they are not big enough.’ She would know about scary dreams. Her efforts to end Liberia’s cycle of violence and promote women’s rights earned her a Nobel Peace Prize.”
“Not all of us are looking to change the world, Mr. Griffin,” Christy said.
“Big changes evolve from small changes, Christy. Today, we might only be working on a high school swim team, but you never know what challenge tomorrow brings. Master these tools now, and you’ll be prepared to face whatever lies ahead.”
Christy sank into her chair and crossed her arms.
Mr. Griffin put down the whiteboard marker. “I know you’re all deeply skeptical of my approach. Tell me, Christy, if following my steps leads you to win the State Championship, will I win you over to my methods?”
Christy’s head bent to the side. “You serious?”
“You bet. If you won the Championship, would you trust me then?”
“Absolutely.”
“I believe it’s possible, but only if you’re willing to try.”
Christy shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll try. Why not? You’ll fail me anyhow if I don’t.”
“No, not like that. I’m not talking about putting a toe in the water. I’m talking about going all in, giving me everything you’ve got.”
“I thought you said this was going to only be five minutes a day for 30 days?” “That’s right, your homework from me will only be five minutes a day for 30 days, but I need your complete dedication during those five minutes. Plus, you’ll give yourself additional tasks to complete your goal. You’ll need to put the same dedication into those. Agreed?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“This is not a guessing game, Christy. Remember, you get what you settle for. Winning is going to take more dedication than that.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’m dedicated.”
Mr. Griffin shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not seeing a girl who’s passionate about winning the State Championship.”
“What?” Christy slapped her hand against her desk. “How can you say that?”
“You think you have the passion it takes?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then if you have the passion and the dedication, come up here.”
Christy stepped up to the front of the room.
“Face the class and close your eyes. Go on, no one’s going to laugh at you. Good. Now ask yourself, what would it mean to you to lead your team to victory in the State Championship?”
“It would be great.”
“Just great? I want you to imagine that you’ve made it to the Championship and it’s neck and neck. What’s the last event?”
“The 4 x 100 relay.”
“What place are you swimming?”
“Last, I’m the anchor.”
“Excellent. So you’re
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