Against the grain II

Mabel J Sherman represented the
simple values we’ve gotten away from

On Saturday, May 27, we laid to rest one of the icons of the great days of old FAMU High School.  Dr. Mabel J Sherman, just short of her 90th birthday, went home to be with the Lord.  No doubt she was greeted with a “well done” at the gates.

While 5-foot-4 in stature, she was as big a figure in the lives of raising thousands of kids whom she touched as an instructor of music at Lucy Moten (FAMU High School’s Elementary School moniker) and FAMU High School.  As a student going through school with mandatory attendance in her class as she was the only elementary school music teacher, she was the most feared instructor on campus.

As we all grew older, we realized that the tough love she gave us prepared us for the rigors of society. She was like the coach that made you run drills that you thought were ridiculous and wouldn’t help you in an actual game.  The purpose of those drills was to make you tough and prepare you to think under pressure.

Ms. Sherman, as we called her, would sit in her room on the first floor of Lucy Moten and command authority.  Her reputation was such that before you ever went to her class, you understood that this lady was not “playing the radio.” She was strict, required your undivided attention and expected excellence from you.

For many of us, it was our first time ever in a music class. It wouldn’t take long before we would learn the notes on a scale and begin to learn to play those notes on her favorite teaching instrument, a recorder. Resembling a clarinet, a recorder was a plastic instrument used across the world to teach the basics of music. For me it was the first and last contact I had with musical instruments in my life, but in order to pass her class it was demanded that we master the basics.

It was a throwback time where teachers spanked out-of-line students.  Ms. Sherman had a legendary discipline device;  she called it the ‘Russian Tanner.”  If you cut up in her class, talked excessively or became unruly, right in front of everyone she would grab that strap that resembled a wide rubber belt and commence to “correcting your issue.”

Under her leadership, several plays, presentations, assembly choirs, May Day Festivals and other performances by students were stellar.  She expected excellence on a daily basis. We rarely saw her smile, she was always focused. She was one person that we knew was all business.

As I’ve grown older, I realized how much she loved us. She would often say, “If I didn’t love you I would just let you run around like you have no home.”  By that, she meant she was preparing us to be someone that our parents would be proud of.

My best friend Kenny Perry and I spent hours together rehearsing the recorder. We didn’t want to disappoint Ms. Sherman. Neither of us ever picked up another instrument after elementary school, we had mastered the recorder not because we wanted to, but because we didn’t want any issues with Ms. Sherman.

That lesson resonates today. Today I find myself diving deeply into new technology, spending countless hours preparing to use it before I have to use it in a public setting. I take pride in understanding all I can about things in order to be as close to an expert as possible. That was taught to me by one of the smallest ladies you would ever meet. But, her impact remains as that of a giant. She personified the fact that great teachers shaped the people of the world and I am glad I only got a taste of the “Russian Tanner” one time. That lesson taught me to be prepare, appropriate and excellent.

Later in life when I would see Dr. Sherman, she was all smiles. The first time I encountered it, I was thrown off. She never smiled at FAMU High. She never forgot any of our names. Meeting her after graduation was like meeting a totally different human being. We realized that she was “normal.” And not some mean lady. It was because the looks she gave us at FAMU High were meant to get our attention. It was meant to teach us playful kids how to be professional and work in excellence. It let us know that for that hour, it was all business. In my life, only Dr. Sybil Mobley gave us SBI students a more concentrated stare.

Rest well Dr. Sherman and if that “Russian Tanner” is still around, it should go in the display case at the FMAU Black Archives because it was definitely a historical piece.