My military experience shaped my life. Walking into an all White barracks and having every kind of racial epithet hurled at you, it changes your life instantly. Many thoughts race through your mind. What do you do? Do you run, do you fight, will anyone stand up to rescue you. I had to answer that question that night. There were no civil rights laws to protect me, no one there to give me any kind of legal or moral support.
The very first college course I took was an English course. I turned in my final essays and waited for the professor to grade the papers and find out what my grade was. When I got the papers they had Red X's in all three. I asked the professor why and his reply was classic, "Mexicans don't write that well". It was Drury College, Springfield Mo.
In one of my assignment there was a unit that was on its back filled with every type of problem and sure to fail the upcoming inspection. Because of my experience I was asked to take over the unit. Well, in one hanger we took out three pallets filled with F4 equipment. We were flying F16's. Supply did not want the equipment back. No problem the Spanish Air Force was still flying F4s. We passed inspection. But all that I had been promised if we passed inspection, well I was told,"If you believed us you have a real problem, you are too gullible." Again, just like my very first assignment, I had to think and I had to think fast and I had to make a good decision. I did.
My worst experience as a teacher was when I was told that over $2,000 of student money had been used to pay for lost textbooks. This was student money because every year I took the students to the museum. I would charge $7 and usually there was change left. The left over money was good because I was able to buy volunteer parents meals while on the trip. This money had to be kept in a school account. To use this money to pay for lost books. Well. It was wrong.