James Comer, a professor of child psychiatry at the Yale University School of Medicine’s Child Study Center, is a world-renowned educator. He founded the Comer School Development Program which promotes the collaboration of parents, educators and community members to improve the social, emotional and academic lives of children. More than 500 U.S. schools have incorporated his program.

While Comer has devoted his own professional life to helping children, he was helped himself when he was young by a teacher with one arm who taught him about democracy and justice. Following is Comer’s own “learning story,” the latest installment in a series on The Sheet called “Faces of Learning,” a national campaign designed to explore what powerful learning environments and highly effective teachers really look like.

The campaign is designed to answer the following questions: How do people learn? How do I learn? What does the ideal learning environment look like? And how can we create more of them?”

Everybody, regardless of age or occupation, is encouraged to go to the campaign’s website and share their story, said the creator, educator and author Sam Chaltain, who wrote a book entitled “Faces of Learning” that tells 50 stories of defining moments in education.

You can share your own story here, and also find a free tool that helps assess individual learning strengths and weaknesses and also provides research about how different people best learn.

You can see earlier stories in this series on this blog here, here, here.and here. And you can also follow the Lifelong Learning series on WAMU radio with these and other Faces of Learning stories.

Here’s Comer’s learning story:

As a high school student council leader I was determined to eradicate all injustice -- and rapidly. For me, an African-American senior in 1951 in a predominantly white high school, the injustice I was most concerned about was racial prejudice. We had made progress in that I was the first head of the more than two-thirds White student council; we eliminated school dances when we could not integrate them; and we voted to eliminate segregated swim classes -- although over the summer school officials sidestepped the problem by turning the pool into a gymnasium.

Nonetheless, they were paying attention to us.

I recall standing in the hallway one day, talking to Mr. Charles Palmer, the faculty supervisor of the council, expressing my frustration about another perceived injustice in our school, and extrapolating to the issue of poverty and the denial of voting rights to blacks in the South. In an empathetic but not condescending way, he said, “The wheels of democracy grind slowly, but they grind.” That comment began an understanding and a struggle to understand human and systems functioning that continues to this day.

The power of the impact was in part in the appearance, behavior, and demeanor of Mr. Palmer. He had just one arm -- but I never heard an explanation, complaint or observed a significant limitation. There was never a moment when he didn’t take his student government and classroom teaching of government work seriously; on reflection it was almost as if he was coaching us for the big game. And perhaps most importantly, he was fair.

I became the head of student government when he disqualified a w hite opponent, who might well have won, because he violated a key pre-election rule—at a time in history when officials turned the pool into a gymnasium rather than reduce racial prejudice and promote fair play.

From that day to this day, I have constantly put the concept of democracy and its impact on human civility to the test. Is it the best way? As I have observed and experienced the impact of democracy and its suppression in other parts of the world, the wisdom in his grinding wheel metaphor has grown more apparent; and the ability of a trusted teacher to incite deep and continuing thought has become more apparent as well.

The point was made sharply a few years ago when a friend of mine challenged President Clinton on television in a gathering that was designed to show public support for a particular initiative. On the way home, his driver, then a naturalized citizen, said, “You know, if you had done that in my country you would have just disappeared.”

I concede, while too slow and too messy, at least the wheels grind and the struggle for a better democracy is possible.


Follow The Answer Sheet every day by bookmarking http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/answer-sheet. And for admissions advice, college news and links to campus papers, please check out our Higher Education page. Bookmark it!