Mrs. Doris Jefferys and What Else I Learned in Seventh Grade Earth Science Class

Beautiful fall afternoon! Seventh period, next to last class before the end of the day. Mind focused straight ahead on the weekend - Thanksgiving coming up soon too! 

But before that had to get through the dreaded next class -- math! Math for the 8th period on a Friday was awful as root canal or that feeling of the "spins" when you lay down after  night of drinking - the worst!

Mrs. Doris Jefferys was one of about three Black teachers (although we were still "Negro" then) in my ironically named Charles Sumner Junior High School 65 on Manhattan's Lower East Side. 

Mrs. Jeffreys was what I now know to be of that upper crust, well-educated, Southern Middle Class and had every bit of elegance that came with it. That was all alien to even we Black students, for although nearly all of our parents were from the South, none of them was from this part of the socioeconomic food chain of multi-generational, Black professionals. She belonged to a special class that was a peculiar side benefit of segregation - Black people teaching, training and nurturing other Black people to be the best - always.

She was medium brown with flawless skin and although clearly from our parents' generation, did not giveaway any age save for streaks of grey in her immaculately coiffed hair.  Elegance indeed and an accompanying grace. There was not a shred of arrogance or condescension in her voice or her manner to any student in this class which reflected the Lower East Side - Jewish, Italian, Irish, Puerto Rican Chinese and Negro. Mrs. Jefferys' demeanor was much of what we thought a college professor's would be. You felt special being taught by her. 

That Friday, strangely, my Math teacher, Mr. Schwab, came to the open door and beckoned Mrs. Jefferys out into the hall. He placed his hand on her shoulder and said something in a low tone. I could see her place her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.     

She nodded and quickly composed herself returning to the classroom. I'll never forget her expression, it started as a slight smile. Then she gazed upwards for a second as if contemplating her next words carefully:

"Well I guess as future scientists" she began, "I need to share this with you."  

Her pause seemed long. I recall thinking - maybe Mr. Schwab had an emergency and had to go home early - no Math class YAY!

But then her face turned undeniably serious.

"We have just learned that President Kennedy was killed in Texas..."   

Everyone gasped, a few girls screamed, I was sitting next to an Italian-American girl name Donna. Donna had long straight hair pulled into a ponytail -- she looked like the girls in the movie "Grease" years later. She wore these glasses that were pointed at the edges - like Batgirl.

She let out a scream and tears literally shot out of her eyes towards here glasses in a straight stream like they were shot out of a water gun. She became hysterical and a couple of girls went to her. Then Mrs. Jeffreys walked over to console her with a hug. Donna spent the rest of the class in tears.

I remember getting a burning sensation like hot pepper had been poured into my my nose. I was truly shocked.

A few moments later Mrs. Schwab returned and told Mrs Jeffreys that it although President Kennedy had been shot, it had not yet been confirmed that he was dead. These were the days long belong the internet, and what lie ahead for the next four days would be the first 24/7 news cycle.  

They dismissed the school after the 7th period, sparing us, at least, 8th period Math. We walked home in shock. Adults were crying and sobbing along the way.  People were stopping strangers and telling them what they had heard, others asking for updates. My older brother, Harry, told me later that he was walking past the AT&T headquarters building coming out of the subway. "When I heard people saying the President was shot," he said, "I thought they meant the President of AT&T ! I thought maybe some guy thought his phone bill was too high."

When we got down to PS. 1, where many of us had gone for elementary school, the flag was at half mast -- we knew then.

I got home an my mother was ironing clothes. it was one of only a handful of times that I ever saw my mother emotionally shaken.  

"Is he alright mama," I said with a Hail Mary's hopefulness.

She shook her head, "No he's gone."

President Kennedy had played a special role in the hearts of Black people. He was viewed as a "savior." For years afterwards you could see two pictures in many Black homes, side-by-side - Martin Luther King and John F. Kennedy. 

I said to my mother what my first thoughts were: "We got a bad president now!"

All I knew (or most Black people) was that Johnson looked mean and had a Southern drawl. You could easily picture him pulling you over across the Mason-Dixon line, state troop hat on glancing down at your "northern" license plates, hand on his gun, and saying "you in a heap of trouble boy!"

As it turned out it couldn't have been further from the reality. LBJ pushed hard for civil rights legislation and a slew of important social changes that today some dismiss as a "liberal agenda." Yeah - but take a moment and think of you would be now without them! 

Years, later I did run tin Mrs Jeffreys again - this time I was a Junior at Sarah Lawrence College. She was with Mr. Jones, another Black southerner who taught me. But he was more of the poorer class. His disheveled demeanor belied his intelligence and sharp wit. He was a large man - not at all afraid or intimidated of some bonafide  tough guys in my school. (Think Sidney in "To Sir With Love.")  Mixed it up with several of them, never lost. You get the feeling Mrs Jeffreys would be in DuBois' camp and Mr Jones in Booker T Washington's. But in reality I'm sure they could embrace both.

That day I told them about some of the other students they had taught who were doing well . Mr Jones just smiled and said, "I'm so proud of all our Black children." Mrs. Jeffreys smiled and had tears in her eyes.

I hugged her and gave him a firm handshake. I am proud to have had them as teachers - and lucky.

I don't know if they were around to see President Obama get elected - but I'm sure they would be proud of that too. And they should know that people like them played a role in Obama getting to the White House.

He should know that too...