Finding “Justice” at Howard Middle School

By Pam Guess, PhD

Turning onto West 25th Street, I thought, “I always get uptight before talking to a group. Maybe in the future I won’t be so quick to agree to do these things.”
I then reminded myself how enthusiastic I had been when scheduling professional development activities at Howard Middle School, a school I’d never even visited. I spent the next two hours exchanging ideas with teachers, administrators and support staff, unaware that I would benefit far more than I’d expected from being there. I would find “Justice” that day at Howard Middle School—Mrs. Vernita Justice, that is, sixth grade math teacher.
Actually, Mrs. Justice found me. While I gathered my materials after the meeting, she walked up and introduced herself, arms outstretched, offering me the first of what would be many of her trademark hugs.
“I hug everybody,” she explained, “and I just want to tell you how much I appreciate you being here today!” A bit surprised, I realized how rarely we experience kind gestures like Mrs. Justice’s expression of gratitude, and how infrequently we—as educators and as people—take the time to connect with, to thank, and to truly be present with others.
But before I could get lost in this thought, Mrs. Justice’s “connectedness” commanded my attention. “Why don’t you come to my classroom sometime? I’d love to have you, and I know my students would, too. I’m sure we could all learn a lot!”
Mrs. Justice was right about the learning opportunity—but I’m the one who has learned the most.

One adult’s impact—multiplied
I regularly see the priceless influence one adult can have in the lives of children. A long line of research shows that a caring adult can boost a child’s emotional health and life success in spite of the potentially damaging effects of poverty, family circumstances, or injurious life events experienced by that child. Mrs. Justice lives this truth through her intuitive awareness of the vital impact one adult can offer.
Her classroom models this reality.
After class hours, students regularly visit her—some aren’t even current students—to ask a question, to describe an accomplishment from the day, to share an emotional hurt, and always to get a hug. The faces of children light up and soften as they melt into her hug while hearing, “I love you, Pookie.” Frustrated expressions transform into looks of pride as children finally solve difficult math problems, excitedly announcing their successes and almost unable to contain themselves as they wait for Mrs. Justice to offer her special handshake. Children who have disrupted the class silently gaze downward, then briefly look upward as Mrs. Justice firmly proclaims, “Tomorrow’s another day. It’s going to be better, isn’t it?”

Power of positive thinking
Conversations with Mrs. Justice provide glimpses into her natural wisdom and loving outlook.
“How did your day turn out?” someone asks, as Mrs. Justice walks down the hallway on a day that’s been filled with unexpected changes. “Good!” she says. “Nobody was going to steal my joy today!”
Mrs. Justice describes teaching as her “calling,” and her eyes fill with tears of appreciation as she recounts her student-teaching experiences. Of the many students she has taught, Mrs. Justice says, “I love them all—they’re my babies.”
Recalling challenging behaviors she has encountered, Mrs. Justice pauses, not breaking eye contact, and then says, emphatically, “Some of the most difficult ones have wanted to do well. They needed someone to tell them they could be successful and to believe in them.”
One strategy Mrs. Justice has coordinated to accomplish this has been through yearly “male mentoring groups,” inviting adult role models to visit her class and speak to her male students. She also started what’s become her common classroom practice: “I’d have them stand up and tell them to repeat after me. I’d say, ‘I can be somebody. I will be somebody. I am somebody!’” After she began facilitating male mentoring groups, Mrs. Justice adds, “the girls started complaining and asking, ‘Why can’t we have those groups?’ So I started having them with the girls, too.”

Cool teacher
A former Howard Middle School student named Kelvin, now in high school, best captured the essence of Mrs. Justice in the following poem, “Cool Teacher,” prominently displayed on the classroom door:

The teacher I got is mean, they say.
She wants you to do things her way.
Sit in your seat and not talk;
Ask her permission before you walk.
Follow her instructions, and never balk.
She wants everyone to make an “A.”
Works you hard each and every day.
She makes everyone do what’s right.
Leaves no time to fuss and fight.
My teacher is mean, so they say.
I’m glad I got her to lead my way.
I really think that she is “cool.”
She allows no one to play the “fool.”
Mrs. Justice Rocks!!!

I found “Justice” at Howard Middle School—Mrs. Vernita Justice, former child of poverty whose destiny was profoundly shaped by childhood teachers. “Mama” Justice to many of her students, dedicated educator of 30 years, Tennessee Department of Education board member, passionate child advocate, firm and loving classroom manager, and inspirational role model.
To paraphrase Plato, an esteemed philosopher and teacher: “A just person is a person in just the right place, doing her best and giving back what she has received.”
Mrs. Vernita Justice is just that.

Vernita Justice shows how one caring adult can help counteract the potentially damaging effects of poverty, family circumstances, or injurious life events experienced by a child.

Pam Guess, PhD, an associate professor in the UTC’s College of Health, Education and Professional Studies and School Psychology Program, co-authors the “Childwise” column for Chattanooga Parent.