The first night that I had sex with my new girlfriend, my mother died. Jenny had asked me to stay the night with her in her dorm room. In the girls dorm at college. Where boys were not allowed after 10pm. Well, my mom, God rest her soul, did not raise a fool, so I said, “Um, ok.” I had known Jenny for about a year. She was introduced to me by a mutual friend one afternoon at Burger King, where she worked and we had stopped in for a burger. She took her break, and sat talking with us as we munched. I was much taken by her. She was pretty, and intelligent and interested in worldly things, like no other girl I had ever known. And she had some really excellent legs sticking out from under her Burger King dress. Ok, so that could be construed as a sexist comment, but it was the 70’s, and I was a hippie, and that was how we spoke back then. I had been ADHD all my life, and people had to kind of get used to me. I was, um, energetic. And being Sam, I kind of made an ass of myself without meaning to. We left, and she seemed underwhelmed by me.

A month later, I ran into her at a party. She was with Rick, a guy I knew from my job. We had the opportunity to talk during the evening, and I apologized for being so spastic at the Burger King that day. She said, “Well, Sam, I thought you were an idiot, and wondered why Mark would have brought you in and introduced us. But you seem like a good hearted guy, so let’s not worry about that.” Having gotten past that, I was enchanted by the hour that we sat there and talked. She was a couple years younger than me, and was headed off to college in September, and she knew so much. About the world. About people. She was going to major in Political Science. I ran into her a couple more times that summer, and we became pretty good friends. We would sit and talk about such big things. I had never met a girl who knew so much about big things. I was an avid reader, and knew many different things, and it was so enjoyable to talk about larger concepts. Like world peace. And feeding the starving. And how the Vietnam war had impacted the American culture. I was working at Auto Parts Factory Outlet, running a hydraulic pipe bender, so my intellectual stimulation was minimal most of the time.

She went off to college, which was only 65 miles north of Cincinnati, and I went up to visit her one saturday, and it was so enjoyable to be with her, we gabbed all day, that I made it a regular saturday thing to do. The college was nothing like University of Cincinnati, where I had taken classes for a year and a half. It was a small private college, established by Quakers, and the students designed their own programs. I got to know a lot of her friends there, and the intellectual atmosphere was intoxicating.

Then came the saturday, where she decided that I was going to be her boyfriend, and asked me to stay the night. That night became the start of Sam learning how to be a man. The luckiest break of my life.

Some months later, I applied to the college for admission. I had been saving my money, and had the first years tuition in hand, when I went in for the entrance interview. The admissions director told me that he was reluctant to grant me admission, because my grades at University of Cincinnati were poor, and this college was seeking serious students who wanted something more than what the student factory I was going to, was offering. Only a few of my credits would transfer from U.C. And I would likely not be eligible for any financial aid. So I took out my $5000 cash savings, and put it on the desk. That was a lot of money back then, and the college was expensive. “I am willing to bet on me, sir, and if you will take this tuition money for the year, I will use the year to prove to you that I am what your college is seeking.” I said.He stared at the cash, and before I knew it, I was admitted.

I moved up to Wilmington, and rented a house in town, and promptly moved Jenny out of the dorm.

Our life there was great. Almost idyllic. Jenny was a feminist, and before long, we had rented out the upstairs rooms to some of her feminist friends. I remember coming home from class one day, and throwing my books down, and sighing, and saying, “Oh man, that was a hard day.” And a voice came from upstairs… “Did you mean, Aw person, That was a hard day?” That was how it was. As each day passed, I fell more in love with her. We got married after a couple years. It turned out that the date we chose coincided with the Women’s Festival Weekend on campus, and the professor in charge of the festival came to talk to us and asked to see the vows that we had written. Which were devoid of any reference to subservientness. After reading them, she asked if we would allow our wedding, which was to be on campus anyway, to be a part of the Festival. We agreed, and it was billed on the program as “Jenny and Sam’s Non Sexist Wedding.” About 300 people attended what was originally to be a small intimate wedding under the Elm tree behind College Hall.

We eventually graduated and headed off into the adventure of our life together. It was a magical journey. We worked at a summer camp in upstate New York the first summer, she as Head Counselor, and me as Maintenance Director. After that, we moved to Little Rock Arkansas, where she was a fourth grade teacher (she had changed her major in college from Poli Sci, to Education) and I was a bookkeeper for a paint company. Then I hired on with a lumber company, and they moved us to Shreveport Louisiana, and later To Austin Texas. Jenny went to grad school in Austin, and taught 4th grade. She was the best teacher I ever had known, totally devoted to her craft, and gained some reknown for her innovative programs. She changed kids lives. Life with Jenny was rich, and full of adventures, and our partnership was strong and vital. She was the ultimate teacher, and I was a willing pupil, and over the years, she taught me how to be a man. She opened my eyes to many things. Sadly, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and died when she was only 36. But her legacy lives on in my heart, and I found that I had become a teacher too, and in the years since her death, that is what I have done. I was a high school teacher in Peace Corps, but after that, I have not taught in a school. I teach every day, in the things that I do, in my job as a Jack of All Trades with my clients, in the philanthropy that I have done in mexico for 20 years, mentoring teenage girls to stay in school and take control of their lives, and in the lives of my friends children. My life is rich beyond measure, and the roots of that are in what Jenny taught to me throughout the short time we had together. I am truly a lucky boy.

Jenny Matters 

Teaching Matters