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Derrick Thomas Academy's Mission Reflects the Man
June 4, 2002
Derrick Thomas had such a big heart. He wasn't perfect, of course. He made his well-publicized mistakes. He lived huge, a life of wild nights, and he wasn't always prepared for the mornings after. That's how it goes, sometimes, with the rich and famous.
But he had such a big heart. He gave out turkeys at Thanksgiving and handed toys to kids at Christmas. He read to children at the library. He quietly sent money whenever he heard a hard-luck story. He appeared wherever there was a worthwhile-sounding charity. Chiefs president/general manager Carl Peterson can remember when Thomas was still young, before he had become one of the great pass rushers in the history of the NFL.
"I want to help kids," Thomas said. "All of them."
That's the Derrick Thomas I want to remember. Monday afternoon, a new charter school opened up in Kansas City. In it, they plan to teach kids a second language from the first day of kindergarten. They plan to have fields where kids can play all sorts of sports. They plan to give a computer to every family of every third-grader and above. They plan to teach children music and art, teach them to love reading, teach them that anything in this whole world is possible.
Are they dreaming? Maybe. It's a nice dream though, isn't it?
They're calling the place "Derrick Thomas Academy."
III
Here's what I want: A teacher to touch my Elizabeth's life. Isn't that what all parents want? For me, it was Ms. Richmond. I still don't know her first name. She was my fifth-grade teacher. She taught me a simple lesson: Writing can be fun. Who ever thought a lesson like that could change someone's life?
For Derrick Thomas, that teacher was Miriam Williams. He was a lost little boy. His father had died in Vietnam. His friends showed him how to throw rocks at school buses. Derrick Thomas didn't think he was worth very much. Miriam Williams taught him that he had something special inside.
I guess, if you think about it, Ms. Richmond and Ms. Williams taught the exact same lesson.
Thomas wanted every kid to have that teacher. Isn't that what all parents want? Trouble is, where do you look? Another family moved off our block in Kansas City. Their child reached school age, and so they felt as if they had to move out to the suburbs, to the better schools.
Our own Elizabeth is not yet 1. But already we get advice.
"Private schools," some suggest.
"Move to Kansas," others suggest.
"Pray the schools get better," still others suggest.
This is life in Kansas City. This is life in so many of the big cities across America. What do you do when you can't afford private school, when you can't move out to suburbia, when your prayers aren't answered?
How will children find that one teacher?
"Kids need a chance," Derrick Thomas used to say again and again. That was his big heart talking. But he didn't know how to do it. He was a football player. He threw his money at causes that sounded good. He started the Third and Long Foundation. He tried to inspire kids by signing autographs and telling them his own story. He inspired a few along the way.
"I think Derrick Thomas just had a wonderful spirit," says Leah Martisko, the principal at Derrick Thomas Academy. "That's what I want for our school. Spirit. Love. That's what I want our teachers to convey to our students. They are going to love the kids. They are going to love the students. That's what's going to make us unique."
Martisko sounds so excited. She didn't know Thomas. But she knows what Derrick Thomas wanted for children. She believes in it.
"We're going to be the best of the best," she says. "I'm only hiring the best teachers. We're only going to have the best curriculum. We're going to bring the best out of kids."
I don't know enough about education and how schools work. Maybe every principal talks this way. Maybe every school begins with this kind of hope. Maybe, in the end, money and red tape and all sorts of other things wear schools down. I don't know. But I want to believe.
Leah Martisko sounds as if she has a big heart, too.
III
In every Kansas City Chiefs contract, there's a special clause. The team asks that every player make five charitable appearances, free of charge, in the community. They can visit a blood bank or sign autographs at a senior-citizens' home or talk to children about staying away from drugs. Five visits.
Thomas was the first to sign the contract. And he wanted to make a difference in children's lives. Five appearances became 10. And 10 became 20. And so on. He was chosen NFL Man of the Year. He was one of George Bush's Thousand Points of Light.
"He couldn't say no," Carl Peterson says. "Derrick was just a good man. He wanted to help everybody."
When Thomas died, there was a rush of positive stories and sweet tears, and you would have thought the man was a living saint. Then came the backlash, skeletons tumbled out of the closet, and you would have thought the man had no redeeming qualities at all.
The truth, like always, is at neither extreme. He was a saint and a sinner, just like everybody else, but unlike everybody else he had these amazing dreams about changing the world. Now, there's a school with his name on it. And that school, more than all the sacks and caused fumbles, can be his legacy. If only enough people believe. School at the Derrick Thomas Academy begins Sept. 3.
"It's something," Peterson says, "to give children hope."
from kansas city.com
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