To Sir (and Ma'am) With Love

[Keroin]

I had a long discussion with a friend of mine last night about her life as a highschool English teacher. What stuck in my mind were the stories about those students she recognized were in need of just a bit of extra attention and love, the lunch hours she's given up to spend with them, and the money she's taken out of her own pocket to enhance her kid's experience in the classroom.

I know some Litsters had rotten school experiences but I'd like to talk about those special teachers you've had, the ones who made a difference in your life. Was there a teacher who helped you through a difficult subject or a personal crisis? Maybe a teacher who just brought out the best in you or made you realize you actually were something special?

I was fortunate to have a lot of amazing teachers throughout my young life, but it really only takes one.

Who was your special teacher?

Or, if you were a teacher, have you ever had a student come back after graduation and acknowledge how you helped them?

 

[midwestyankee]

Indeed. I had numerous great teachers, all the way into graduate school. Perhaps the most influential was one of my last, in fact. He taught me true independence of thought and gave me his secret method for ridding himself of intellectual biases. Fascinating man, too. Forty years ago he taught himself how to read Chinese and built his own bicycles from scratch.

About two years ago I received a message via Facebook from a student who had been in one of my American Lit classes in the very early nineties. She's now a physician on the east coast and wrote a longish note that included some very high praise for the way that I taught her class. She passed on that a small kindness I did for her - a gift of a book that I felt she'd enjoy when she suddenly had to move from the community due to a change in her father's employment - played a part in cementing a new relationship with her now husband. It was a delight to hear from her and, of course, thrilling to know that something I did made a difference in a life. If I can find a segment of the note that will help convey the sense of her praise without revealing too much, I'll add it here later.

 

[Keroin]

Perhaps the most influential was one of my last, in fact. He taught me true independence of thought and gave me his secret method for ridding himself of intellectual biases.

OK, now you have me damned curious about this method of his!

About two years ago I received a message via Facebook from a student who had been in one of my American Lit classes in the very early nineties. She's now a physician on the east coast and wrote a longish note that included some very high praise for the way that I taught her class. She passed on that a small kindness I did for her - a gift of a book that I felt she'd enjoy when she suddenly had to move from the community due to a change in her father's employment - played a part in cementing a new relationship with her now husband. It was a delight to hear from her and, of course, thrilling to know that something I did made a difference in a life. If I can find a segment of the note that will help convey the sense of her praise without revealing too much, I'll add it here later.

I hope you do. That moment must have felt so rewarding. It's hard to know the effect one small act can have on a developing young mind.

 

[midwestyankee]

OK, now you have me damned curious about this method of his!


I hope you do. That moment must have felt so rewarding. It's hard to know the effect one small act can have on a developing young mind.

The method was very simple: he made me present for an hour to other graduate students on the merits of a position that I had dismissed without fully studying it.

Here is the key portion of the note I received, with a couple of changes for anonymity:

My time in Illinois was difficult, as I was struggling with the usual teenage social/ peer pressures and I fit in with the "smart" kids sort of, but always felt like an outsider. I liked school for more than just getting those good grades to get into a good college (but I did--Cornell--and loved it!). Your class was challenging and fun. N and I both remember when we read "Walden Pond" that you dressed in jeans and brought us all apples (I think that ticked off the administration). I still have some of the papers I wrote that year, including one on plant images in The Scarlet Letter in which I wrote in super tiny print as I had misunderstood the assignment and ended up having a paper twice as long as it needed to be. I made some witty and acerbic comment in the forward directed at the directions, and you responded in kind with equal wit.

Although I ponder over memories often (like any good former military brat does), I hadn't thought about that class in probably several years until a few days ago. The man I am dating is a devout Methodist who has given me a book to read by Rev. Spong and we have had some lively discussions about religion. I told him I had a book I thought he would enjoy: It is Joshua, a religious fable that you had given me when I moved. I re-read the caring well wishes you had written on the title page and then told R about you and how the world really needs more teachers like you. I think N told me that you ended up getting fired from ##HS because parents complained that you made students think and do work, which is a real shame and a huge loss for the school.

My life path took twists and turns but finally ended up where I had hoped it would lead--as a family doctor who does lots of theatre in my spare time. I don't know where your life path led you, but I thought you might appreciate a blast from the past with a note that you made a positive difference in my life and I thank you for it.​

I certainly did appreciate that blast from the past.

 

[rida]

Literature, compositions and my mother tongue language classes were my bete noir at school since first grade. The fact i had a horrible cursive hand writing did not help (writing in cursive was the basis back then). And of course grammatical analysis made no sense to me and I'd pretty much fail it.

My 6th to 8th grade teacher, not only allowed me to write in print, she also went to the length of teaching what was then called "new grammar" and make specific separate test quizzes only for me. And to encourage me to write, she also gave me the freedom to chose any style I wished (she knew I was an avid reader so she understood that my struggle was the teaching structure rather than comprehension or apathy).

It surely changed my approach to school, teachers and studying.

And probably created the basis for my love of writing now, albeit in a different language than the one she thought me ^_^

 

[Keroin]

The method was very simple: he made me present for an hour to other graduate students on the merits of a position that I had dismissed without fully studying it.

Ohhhh, good one!

Here is the key portion of the note I received, with a couple of changes for anonymity

Beautiful. Thanks for sharing.

And you pissed off the establishment? Why does that not shock me?

 

[sdineen]

df

I have had many great teachers from Pre K through Phd.
I'd sum up one when I was main streamed for the first time.
He truly believed I could learn, at a time when wheelchair using students were "encouraged" to focus on socialisation skills not academics. I was rather bold and he nurtured that avoiding the usual mistake of mixing up docilty with good behavior.

 

[Keroin]

It surely changed my approach to school, teachers and studying.

And probably created the basis for my love of writing now, albeit in a different language than the one she thought me ^_^

I love this! What a gift that teacher gave you. Thanks, Rida.

I think a lot of kids suffer from the "structure" of learning, not the subjects. I often wonder if I might have done better with math if I had found a teacher who could explain it in ways I could have understood?

 

[Keroin]

I have had many great teachers from Pre K through Phd.
I'd sum up one when I was main streamed for the first time.
He truly believed I could learn, at a time when wheelchair using students were "encouraged" to focus on socialisation skills not academics. I was rather bold and he nurtured that avoiding the usual mistake of mixing up docilty with good behavior.

Thank goodness for the outliers and rebels. It seems ridiculous, now, to even consider that someone in a wheelchair should not be educated in exactly the same way as everyone else. Glad to hear you found someone who understood that.

 

[rida]

I love this! What a gift that teacher gave you. Thanks, Rida.

I think a lot of kids suffer from the "structure" of learning, not the subjects. I often wonder if I might have done better with math if I had found a teacher who could explain it in ways I could have understood?

My saving grace with math was that it made logical sense to me, I was quick at mental calculations and could somehow see the solution.
However I could never learn/memorize the time tables and formulas ...

And yes, I believe that one of the main reason a lot of girls shriek away from math and science is because of the wrong teaching system.

In my little, while spending 6month in a Japanese High School as a "visiting student", I simply "explained" in my broken- back then- Japanese algebra the the girl next to my desk.
She went from failing to above average grades. It only took showing her the concept in a different way ^_^

Afterall, math is just another language, and you can paraphrase concept in many different ways

 

[knot_sweet]

There are six teachers who stand out for me.

My grade 1 teacher, Mrs Ridley, who never tried to make me fit in with the rest of the class and let me learn freely.

My grade 4 teacher, Mr Ford, who spent hours reading Tolkien and Eddings to us.

My primary school music teacher who's name I no longer remember but who patiently taught me everything she could about music.

Mr Gallo, my high school music teacher, for recognising I couldn't sing worth a damn and letting me mime in the school choir that was compulsory for bandies.

My ballroom teacher who is so passionately devoted to his sport he is willing to teach even me.

And my boyfriend, who loves teaching so much he volunteers time instructing kids.

I've had a few really bad teachers too, but I like to think I learned from them too, even if what I learned was how not to be.

 

[intothewoods]

I had some good teachers and some bad ones, but none that were really THE ONE, you know? I think I probably had some fantasy about this that was pretty unrealistic.

Anyway, I was talking with a friend of mine recently about this really nutty teacher of ours. Like, no boundaries, pretty crazy and emotionally unstable. However, all that said, she let us do whatever the fuck we wanted creatively, and I did some pretty amazing shit because of it.

 

[FurryFury]

I was in a new school again. I was adrift. My English teacher pulled me aside one day and told me he wanted me to audition for the play. I was thrilled by that. I got a part. I became a small part of a group. I found something that truly made me happy and which is part of what I do today. This small thing became a big thing. When I moved schools again, I was able to keep at it and other things. My whole life went from painfully lonely to far less so and more interesting.

A few years ago I wrote him a letter about how I'll always be grateful to him for what he did. We did three plays together in the year and a half I was at that school. A school where most activities were closed to you unless you'd already done it at their junior high.

My fav x'mas present of all time was his letter back to me. Still makes me smile to think of it. I went on to do many more plays and to find my way in life with far more confidence than I'd ever had.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

I had some pretty good teachers, some sorta bad teachers, and a few really amazing teachers.

First (chronologically) on the list is the second grade teacher who let me read all the books in the second grade library (because I was way ahead in all my work), and then the third grade library (each grade in that school had its own "age- and development-appropriate" library; kids were tested on random books they had checked out from their own grade before they were allowed to move up to the next grade's library), and then half of the fourth grade library... all before Christmas. At that point, she called my mother in for a conference and strongly recommended that I immediately "skip" into the third grade. Sadly, I don't remember her name - possibly because I only had her for that one semester.

My sixth grade teacher, at American Elementary School in Vicenza, Italy, Miss (gotta remember, this was 1960 - "Ms." hadn't been invented yet) Todaro: She was *g*o*r*g*e*o*u*s*, and every boy in our class was determined to marry her. There were even a couple of fights between boys over who would be her eventual husband! Her graceful way of deflecting our infatuation was wonderful, but we were still all heartbroken at the end of the year, not only because we would be moving into junior high and away from her the next year, but also because she announced to us on the last day of school that she was getting married and moving back to the State with her new husband.

My high school Oklahoma History (a required course in Oklahoma at that time ) teacher, Mrs. Lewis: A wizened little monkey of a woman, she could take the driest lessons about the Dust Bowl years (yes, pun intended!) and make them interesting to every student in the room. She could somehow tie our mutual interests into her lessons, and thus kept our attention and made the key points stick in our pointy little heads so that we learned, and could remember those key points when it came time for testing.

My American History teacher, Mr. Norman: In contrast to Ms. Lewis, he didn't cater to our interests. Instead, he made of history a story that grabbed your interest from the first sentence, and held it until the class bell rang, about two seconds after he finished each lesson. He was perhaps the finest raconteur I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

And my senior English teacher, Mrs. Schultz. Mrs. Schultz taught us to love what language was really all about - communication with others - and to love the fact that it could be done with grace and style. She taught me that language was *important,* and using language well a necessity. I've never forgotten that.

Mrs. Schultz was a major impetus for me becoming a high school English teacher some 20 years later... and I felt that I had failed her more than I had myself and my students when I finally acknowledged that I couldn't teach English with the same effect she had, even though I had a lot of success with my print and broadcast journalism programs. Despite that, though, the frustrations of modern education, along with the fact that I could never get away from having to teach at least two or three of the despised and despicable required "English" courses each year, ended my teaching career after 11 years. Yes, I had some successes even with my English students, but the failures were much more numerous, and more devastating in their multitude than the few successes, no matter how wonderful they briefly were, could repair.

 

[graceanne]

I could count on one hand the good teachers I had, but that, perhaps, makes them more memorable to me.

My first good teacher was in sixth grade, Mrs. Wood. She never once lost her temper, and even when I did stuff to annoy her she just made me want to do better. She was also the first teacher to look past my behavioral issues to realize that I was really good with children and people with special needs and she recommended me to be one of the four sixth graders who got to be teachers aids in the special ed classroom.

I had some other teachers who weren't bad and helped in small ways. My junior year I was, for the first time, allowed to join honors english (even though i was failing math) and my teacher was the first teacher that I can recall to remark on my intelligence in way that wasn't followed by anything using the words potential. And in twelfth grade my foods teacher nominated me for student of the month and was very surprised when I hugged her and ran off to call my mom to tell her I won an award (for the first time, ever). I don't think she realized what that was going to mean to me, but I still have the certificate I got.

 

[CurvAppeal]

Out of the amazing, spectacular teachers that i had...there were only a few who were just horrible. Most teachers took the time out of their days to help me, gave up their lunch hours to see me or any other student pass. I was really blessed to have the teachers that I did. =)

My favorites:
Ms. V
Ms. G
Mr. S
Mrs. M
Mrs. K

Thank you to my top 5!!! I love you all.

 

[Homburg]

The best teacher I had, hands down, was a truly amazing chap that taught freshman english and world history. He was primarily a social studies/hisotry teacher, but had a degree in english as well, so he convinced the school (an american high school in what was then West Germany) to allow him to teach honors english and social studies, to teach them back to back, and to the same group of kids overall.

So I would sit through one period where he would teach history and the next english, and along the way, he tied them both together in an holistic web that MADE SENSE. It put the literature in place, and helped define the culture as well as the history.

An AHA moment happened for me when he was going on about another European war where Russia or Germany had invaded Poland AGAIN. It boggled me, as it seemed like Poland had changed hands a half dozen times in a few decades. I raised my hand, and asked why this was, saying "It seems to me like they are reinventing the wheel with this pattern of conquest and reconquest." Man, did I ever catch grief for that turn of phrase, but Mr V took me 100% seriously, jumped out of the curriculum, and explained how Poland was a major breadbasket for europe, and then launched into military history and logistics and such. That moment caused all of those endless classes on this battle that begat that battle and so forth to suddenly fall into place, and a significant chunk of world history jumped into place.

In my experience, there is very little in this world compared to that moment when you brain suddenly makes the leap from asking "what" to asking "why". Completely amazing.

Interesting, another great teacher was another history teacher named Mr V (well, Coach V) the next year. Not because he was a particularly good teacher, but more because the guy was like 90 years old and an incredibly entertaining storyteller. As he'd live through a significant chunk of American History, he was pretty darned qualified to teach it. He'd even worked in the meat packing plants in Chicago during the time period when Upton Sinclair wrote his famous book, and told us first-hand accounts of that era, and others.

The last was one of my college professors that grabbed me by the shoulders, shook me, and yelled "YOU MUST GO TO GRAD SCHOOL!!" in my last week of undergrad. I never did go to grad school, but the guy was an awesome professor that really opened my brain to a lot of incredible ideas, as well as being really, really emphatic.

The flipside of this is having a teacher in the house here and seeing the night when she cries because she can't do more for the kids in her class. It's a tough job.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

... The flipside of this is having a teacher in the house here and seeing the night when she cries because she can't do more for the kids in her class. It's a tough job.

The night or day when a teacher realizes the limits of what s/he can do for the kids is a bitch. Some teachers break under it; some give up; some decide to do what they can as best they can for as long as they can. I think mis likely fell/will fall into that last category. I ended up in the second. I wish I had been stronger.

 

[midwestyankee]

The night or day when a teacher realizes the limits of what s/he can do for the kids is a bitch. Some teachers break under it; some give up; some decide to do what they can as best they can for as long as they can. I think mis likely fell/will fall into that last category. I ended up in the second. I wish I had been stronger.

It took my wife nearly 30 years in the classroom before she shifted her thinking away from that absolute need you describe.

 

[Ahlam]

Mr. C.

The school I attended growing up was K-12. There were three teachers, one hundred students or so, and there were not enough desks nor text books to go around. I was a terrible student. All I wanted to do--if I showed up--was sit in the corner and read. Anyone who had the nerve to attempt to engage me was belligerently shunned. The teachers, strained enough as it was, learned not to exert themselves on my behalf. It was great! For many years I could do whatever I wanted! Then the 9th grade rolled around and a new teacher arrived--Mr C. He was Grade A for Asshole. I look back now on what he did and I can't believe he wasn't arrested or fired. One afternoon, he snatched my book away and he threw it out the window. Then he dragged me out to his truck and drove me to Kalispell (about an hour drive). There he dropped me off. He told me to find my own way home and to present a report on Monday detailing the journey and what I noticed or learned. He forced me to step away from fantasy and into reality. I tried to thank him once, but he told me to shut up.

 

[Lilith]

This thread just makes me smile. I am torn between wanting my students to know how special they are to me and NEVER wanting to see them post about it at Lit Thankfully I work with the wee ones and none are old enough, yet


It is sweet and wonderful the way you guys have spoken about your teachers. I know you meant just as much to them.

 

[Keroin]

Wow, I can't believe this thread is still alive.

But I'm so glad.

 

[Keroin]

The school I attended growing up was K-12. There were three teachers, one hundred students or so, and there were not enough desks nor text books to go around. I was a terrible student. All I wanted to do--if I showed up--was sit in the corner and read. Anyone who had the nerve to attempt to engage me was belligerently shunned. The teachers, strained enough as it was, learned not to exert themselves on my behalf. It was great! For many years I could do whatever I wanted! Then the 9th grade rolled around and a new teacher arrived--Mr C. He was Grade A for Asshole. I look back now on what he did and I can't believe he wasn't arrested or fired. One afternoon, he snatched my book away and he threw it out the window. Then he dragged me out to his truck and drove me to Kalispell (about an hour drive). There he dropped me off. He told me to find my own way home and to present a report on Monday detailing the journey and what I noticed or learned. He forced me to step away from fantasy and into reality. I tried to thank him once, but he told me to shut up.

Great story and...hey, I've been to Kalispell!! Small world.

 

[Betticus]

I had one teacher in 8th grade. Really didn't get along with him well and was completely failing the .. well, the whole 8th grade so short of just making me repeat the grade he instead suggested to the school that they have me run through a battery of exams and be evaluated by a psychologist. Seems that teacher was convinced that I had some form of mental retardation since I rarely spoke and my behavior was possibly not normal.

So I went through about three solid days of psych evaluations and batteries of tests after tests in every subject imaginable and then finally it was over. My teacher who I might add seemed to have a pretty well based dislike of me, I recall he was almost excited to find out what their evaluation was and I was curious too since a lot of the things on those tests I'd never seen before.

Turns out that what happened was that they gave me test after test eventually just to see what I'd do and in the end in every subject but math I had passed the high school exams for graduation. Their evaluation basically stated that I was bored and just wasn't interested in what he was teaching. That teacher after that just left me alone, still didn't like me but I was ok with that. So, with having had me go through all of that testing one could say that teacher helped me to find quite a bit of self confidence.

Seems that back then or maybe with that particular psych they went with smart and bored instead of figuring out some flavor of high functioning autism. It wasn't so much that I was bored, I couldn't make any sense of or understand what they were trying to teach in the way the material was being presented and at the time it was hard enough to try to put into words the images in my mind so that people could get what I was trying to communicate.

So that guy even though his intentions were not the best for me inadvertently gave me the self esteem boost I needed to start pushing myself harder and harder as by the 8th grade I had basically given up and thought as he did that I was retarded mentally in some way.

As for the math, since I process visually I see things moving and changing so if it's something like 4 apples that is something with a real world image that I can understand but if it's something without a physical object to envision I just don't quite get it so something like (a+b)*(c+d) doesn't change for me unless real numbers are used and then I have to go through a labor intensive process of summation. That said I totally aced physics and chemistry like it was a native language.

Other than that there was in high school a biology teacher that was a lot of fun, he kept bees in a hive in the classroom and they had a tube that ran through the wall to get in and out. The fun part though was we'd do classes outdoors studying the plants around the school and a nearby park. Absolutely loved that class, aced it, ruined the curve for everyone else. I remember this one girl in my class, a cheerleader, really sexy girl but she just did not understand biology and couldn't pass a test to save her life. Usually while taking tests the teacher and she would go thru the adjoining door to the lab in the next room as she was helping him to categorize and file paperwork. She also aced the class. *sigh* to be sixteen again....

So yeah, I'd have to say my biology teacher was pretty awesome. He had a genuine excitement about the subject that could get all of us to have fun and learn. He actually cared about the students, would take the time to go over topics in different ways if someone wasn't quite getting it, he used visuals a lot so instead of a picture we would go out and actually work with the real thing which I can say caught my attention. Everyone knew he was having sex with the cheerleader, nobody ever said anything, I didn't even know that it was wrong until way after high school but she seemed to be more into it than he was so maybe he was her best teacher too. Managed to find a way to teach her about biology I suppose, just not on plants.

There was this super cute 2nd grade teacher that I was totally in love with. I suspect she may have known about my crush but she kept it professional and didn't molest me. Goddamnit! I was so down for the molestering with her. She was kind of married but c'mon, that's a weak excuse for her self control. I mean I was right there, young, lithe, nubile lad and unlike these kids of today I'd have kept my damn mouth shut about the whole thing. When a gift from God drops into your lap that's between you and God and a molestering that good could only be naughtier if kept a secret. While I loved her madly I also feel that I was cheated out of a quality, well rounded education as I'd have learned so much had she taken me as a secret lover. Hell, I'd have probably even studied harder just to stay in her good graces. If that teacher had any real kind of compassion and love for her students she would have kept me after class and fucked me, hard... a lot.. with lots of kinky stuff too.

 

[welkin]

Absolutely!

I moved and transferred to a new school when I was in 8th grade; at the time my English was still flawed, and I didn't have any friends at the new school, so I felt like a loner that nobody liked for a really long time. Fortunately I was always a good student so I trusted the authorities, so I reached out to the school counselor for help. An hour of conversation (me sobbing through most of it) did wonders. Starting from that day, I was able to slowly rebuild my confidence...
Honestly I don't know how I would have turned out if I didn't get the help I did... Sink into depression? That counselor may very well have saved me.