Start Here...

So.... here I am again. I am hoping this time will be different. Forget everything that came before!

Since 1976, more on than off, I have written a column called "Berman's Bits," which has appeared in numerous NH papers. The latest version had been in a local NH publication for the last several years, but the paper seems to have disappeared - poof - gone.... The website states "Permanently closed." That doesn't bode well.

A few weeks ago, I sent the owner an email asking what's happening, but I didn't receive a reply, so I decided to put my efforts here!   

My goal here is more Blog than Berman's Bits (there is an occasionally updated Facebook page for that and a www.bermansbits.com). Here, however, I have two major directions: (1) a partial memoir and (2) something I call 'snapshots' - moments that have stood out (good or bad), stand alone, and withstood the test of time.  

Snapshot 1. 

Last week, I was at an area restaurant and ran into a former student. We nodded hello, and that was that, but a memory worked its way into my consciousness - not a good memory. I will call him Brian. He was (and still is) a large person. When he was put in my class, I was told that if he ever got in trouble, I should not send him to the principal's office but instead to the Special Ed. director, whom I will call Mrs. Holt.

One day, he was fooling around in class, and after a couple of warnings, I said, "Okay, Brian. That's enough. Get your stuff and go to Mrs. Holt's office." If he had, that would have been that, and I probably wouldn't have the memory of what happened next.

He got up and slowly walked down the aisle to where I stood. I am not small, but he was bigger. I remember thinking he could probably bench press me and snap me like a twig. The rest of the class fell absolutely silent and watched. He got right in front of me and my face. With his hands in fists on his hips and his head tilted, he said, "What are you trying to get me in trouble for?" I don't think a piece of paper would have fit between us. 

Even though I was turning into Jell-O inside, I stood my ground and without breaking eye-contact calmly said, "Brian, I am not trying to get you in trouble - I'm trying to keep you out of it." A couple of hours-long seconds went by, and I could see him deflate; his shoulders dropped, his hands went off his hips, and he said, "Okay." He went back to his desk, retrieved his belongings, and left the room. Whew!

After dinner, I went over to his table, and we shook hands. I asked if he remembered the incident - he did and said he is not like that anymore. The thing that made me feel the best was when he said, "You handled it well."