I was a bit of a slacker in high school.
Education wasn’t stressed in my house, so I pretty much was on my own. Lacking motivation and encouragement to excel, I coasted along, doing only what was absolutely necessary to keep from failing.
Although I really liked my junior year journalism class, I did only what was required. Most of the time. High school journalism students were part of the newspaper staff by default, but I wasn’t really interested in writing stories about the school’s latest pep rally. I wanted to cover “hard” news like rape and murder. For a high school newspaper. Funny, in retrospect.
Miss G. made us keep a weekly journal, a task designed to help us get the creative juices flowing by writing two pages in a black and white composition notebook once a week. All we had to do was fill up a page — front and back — to get an A. Most of the time, I went over the quota, writing several pages worth of adolescent angst over crushes on football players and going to the prom. One time, I wrote this sprawling “short story” about a dream fantasy, where the object of my affection was the singer Prince, an obsession at the time. I kept it clean, but I used my imagination to transport the reader into the fantasy, and ended the story on an enigmatic note. To my 16-year-old mind, it was cool.
Miss G. thought so, too. “You’re a good writer, La Shawn,” she wrote in the margin, the first time anyone had ever told me that. Comments like, “This would make a good column – save it!” and “Excellent writing!” were sprinkled throughout other entries. Her encouragement gave me the confidence to experiment and open up in the entries.
Not even 10 years older than we were, Miss G. was young and cool. She got us excited about journalism, teaching us how to find “the story” and covering the who, what, where, and when and basic styles of news writing. We watched movies like “All The President’s Men” and “Absence of Malice” in class and learned about journalistic ethics. The subject was great. Doing the actual work, not so great. As I said, I lacked motivation. 
While I barely completed other assignments for the class, that semester-long year-long, journal-writing project saved me from failing. I loved writing in that journal, but I didn’t like doing it as an assignment. Sometimes I was late turning it in, and my grade reflected it. But journaling created a “fire in the belly.” I had connected with something at last.
Miss G. didn’t return for my senior year. She got married, became Mrs. M., and moved away. I missed her like crazy. But a strange thing happened after she left: I continued writing in the journal. The new teacher hadn’t assigned journal writing, but I kept doing the “assignment” anyway. I bought a new composition book and made entries even more personal, knowing I’d be the only one reading them.
Every year or so, I’d buy a new one and fill it up. And I kept at it, sometimes daily, sometimes a few times a week, other times skipping a month or two. I’ve cried while scribbling in it, laughed while jotting down silly moments, and grieved over it as I captured adolescent suicidal thoughts and feelings. Those journals carried me through high school, college, my parents’ divorce, pregnancy scares, alcoholic fogs, falling in lust, out of lust, in love, out of love, first job, second job, third job, law school, moving to D.C., struggles with faith, personal days of reckoning, finding Christ, becoming a child of God, starting a blog, getting nasty e-mail from strangers, going on radio and TV, self-doubt, self-criticism, hearing from old friends, old boyfriends, making new friends…
Twenty-four years and sixteen black and white composition notebooks later, I’m still scribbling. Sometimes crying. Always laughing. 
A few years ago, I decided to track down Mrs. M. and tell her about my journals. I wanted her to know that the spark she ignited in me had become a long-lasting burning flame. I loved writing and kept up the journals, and I felt it was important for her to know that. Thanks to the web, finding her was easy. I fired off a quick e-mail, reminding her who I was (slacker student) and what I’d been doing in the subsequent years. I told her how much she and that journaling assignment meant to me.
And she wrote back.
Miss. G. remembered me! She thanked me for getting in touch after all these years and was very pleased that I’d kept up the journaling. As she was politically conservative, too, she loved my op-eds (especially the pro-life stuff) and told me she was proud of my accomplishments. She even commented on a blog post once. I felt like a 16-year-old kid again, reading her approving remarks in the margins of my journal entries.
A homeschooling mother, Mrs. M. wanted us to get together the next time she and her family visited the nation’s capital. She was a generous woman, homeschooling other children and inviting foreign exchange students into her home. And she was a believer.
Mrs. M. and I continued our correspondence, and she shared a humbling story with me. She assigned weekly journaling to her homeschool students but was about to remove it from the curriculum before I e-mailed her. Mrs. M. said that my keeping up the journal for 20+ years, and knowing what that high school assignment has meant to my life, inspired her to keep journaling in the curriculum, to the consternation of her students.
One day, I got an e-mail from one of her sisters. Mrs. M. had been killed in a car accident.
I was numb for a few days, then I called her sister. We talked about Mrs. M.’s family and faith, and she told me how proud Mrs. M. had been of my work and for keeping up the journaling. I’d done what many people don’t do, Mrs. M.’s sister said. I’d followed through by contacting a former teacher and letting that teacher know how her classes affected my life, and it meant a lot to Mrs. M.
I regret not seeing Mrs. M. before she died, but I’m so glad I took the time to find her. I wanted her to know that at least one of her former students kept doing her “assignment,” an assignment that changed the student’s life.
As I said, Mrs. M. was a Christ follower. I missed my chance to see while she was alive, but I definitely will see her again.
Which teacher(s), if any, had a positive impact on your life?
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My Chemistry teacher made an impact on me. He was irreverent and occasionally off-color and would probably not make it in todays “PC” high school. But he taught me a lot. The two most important things I learned from him were:
1) Science Facts are not always truth. We went through half a year learning what the atom looked like. 6 different times. Each way of looking at the atom was useful, but not the only way of looking at it.
2) “I don’t expect you to learn this all THIS time, but the NEXT time you hear it, you will learn it more easily.” This became an epiphany to me in college. I could not have quoted 10 things from my Chemistry class in the summer after High School. But I remember sitting in my college Chem class and suddenly realizing I understood everything the teacher had just written on the board. The second time was so much easier.
Today, I’m a homeschooling Dad who tutors a class of homeschool kids in Chemistry once a week. It continues to remind me of a great teacher I once had.
It’s hard to pick just one. I had many great, wonderful teachers in high school and college. Teachers who loved what they taught, and did everything they could to share that passion and love for whatever subject.
If I had to pick just one, it would be my high school sophomore year English teacher. I was in a private school at the time, and half my class had gone to private grade school, the other half public, and this was never apparent until we hit the grammar unit. The girls who’d been in private school were perfectly at home with the subject. The rest of us were perfectly, completely lost.
Our teacher was faced with either going far too slow for half her class, or far too quickly for the rest of us. So she went slower, but not too slow for the girls who knew what they were doing, and came down to the cafeteria for every lunch period to tutor any of the rest of us who were interested. Then she stayed after school, and was even willing to meet on the weekends, just to help us catch up.
At the end of that unit, I just wanted to not fail the test. I got a C (the only C I ever got in English, where I usually got A’s and B’s), but I was elated to get that C.
She was to me an example of a teacher who really wanted all her students to do well, who understood that our problems were not lack of intelligence or drive, but were instead the fact that we’d all completely missed a huge part of “standard” education (for instance, I didn’t know what a “pro-noun” was until we covered them in French class). She was a wonderful woman, and I’ll never forget the effort and energy she put in to “taking care of her girls.”
This is similar to the survey I am conducting on my blog. I wrote about my dad being killed 40 years ago (Sunday) and it really made me think on who influenced me most. My post is titled: In honor of Captain David P. Gibson. After writing this post I had realized that I was deeply grateful for my mother raising me to love my country, and to be proud of my dad and his sacrifice. I truly spent my early childhood listening to the anti-war rhetoric and it so upset me. Then I would come home and my mom would pick me up. So first and foremost my mother( who was a teacher that chose to stay home) after dad was killed. I am so thankful for her example, her determination at raising me to love America in trying times.So although she was not a public school teacher, her influence at home inspired me to home school my own children.
I hated the reading assignments that we were given in High School. After receiving another poor grade on a book report, my sophomore year English teacher asked me why I wasn’t doing better.
I told him that the books we were told to read were boring. After the bell had rung, he stopped me outside the classroom. He looked around to make sure no other teachers or administrators were around. He said I might want to go to the library and check out a book called “Cather in the Rye.” He said I might find it more interesting than what we had been reading.
I thought, OK I’ll give another stupid book a try. As I was checking out the book from the city library, the lady behind the counter asked if I had my parents’ permission to check out that book. I lied, said yes, and began to think that maybe this book wouldn’t be that bad after all.
“Catcher in the Rye” was the first book I ever read cover-to-cover without stopping for anything. After that, I was a reading machine.
I’m sorry to say that I can’t remember my English teacher’s name. He has been one of the greatest influences on my life.
He stepped outside what was acceptable at the time. He took a risk. He accurately prescribed what his student needed. I am forever thankful to him.
Great article!!!
It’s funny, I teach Sunday School and love “teaching” kids (i.e. Scouts, Baseball, Sunday School, etc). Had I NOT been programming in computers, yup…a teacher indeed.
I actually have 2 teachers who affected me greatly.
A wrestling coach/gym teacher (I am NOT a wrestler). 6 feet tall, big booming voice, balding head. While still in Elementary School, he used to yell at us when we started an argument with each other. To this day, I can hear him when he called the two of us into his office, “Do you REALLY want to fight each other? We’ll see how tough you are without your friends here to egg you on”. He was a teacher to me when I didn’t even realize it at the time.
More importantly, when I did as much as I could do within an event, he got right in front of me and said, “Are you telling me that you can’t even do one more situp? Not even one?”. Well, he got one more out of me which led to, “I thought you said that you couldn’t do one more” with a booming voice.
Truth be told, I actually did 37 more because of his teaching me that I really CAN do more than “I” think.
The same philosphy holds true with one of my Little League coaches. Upon watching me just miss a baseball that tipped off of my glove, he told me the comment that I’ve remembered now for 30 years…”If you can touch it, you can catch it”. Talk about a metaphor for living life!!!!
Both are long gone now but their lessons and their teachings are being passed along to others which is the greatest compliment to a teacher.
Here’s to 2 teacherswho taught life lessons while teaching sports. Over 30 years ago and the lessons are still as valuable today as they were then.
God Bless “Mr. Pete” and thanks for the lessons
I’ve been fortunate to have had several good teachers but 2 still stand apart from the rest. Brent Harper was my 5th grade teacher who somehow managed to get my head in the classroom and off the playground with his firm, but fair discipline. And Floyd Cook, my Senior Chemistry teacher. He wouldn’t accept any excuses when he knew I could do better. His challenges are still with me today and I’ve been out of high school 27 years.
Wonderful yet bittersweet post La Shawn. My favorite teacher was Ms. S. I had her three of the four years of high school and she taught me everything I know about Algebra I & II, Trigonometry and Advanced Math.
I was a definite loner and in all honesty she was tough. She drew me out of myself though. I hated math, I still hate math. At the very end of algebra I we started covering axioms and properties. I almost failed that six weeks. She said that she knew I could do better and really challenged me to dig in.
The next year, after summer break, I had her for Algebra II and we picked up with axioms. She coached me very strongly and with extra credit… I not only had an A+ for the six weeks, my average was 110%. She always said I would take the skill I learned in her classes with me into the future and while I still hate math, the deductive reasoning is very much a part of my life today.
Ms. S. was a great teacher. I liked her because she noticed a loner, hurting (I was a mess) student and without coddling but firm encouragement, she equipped me with very important life lessons.
wow. Thing is, you post something that powerful and then ask if anyone else can share a story…what a hard act to follow. It had to of meant the world to that teacher to hear that from you years later. I know it would have for me.
I suppose that all of us have had teachers that touched our lives, but few as profoundly. This made my day… thanks
I think each of my teachers had an impact on me, but there were a couple who were above and beyond the rest. I wrote about them back in January at The Daily Brief. Now that I have read your story, La Shawn, I want to email Mrs Mahan and tell her how much she impacted me.
I had a “Mrs. G” in my life. Mrs. Given, my senior English teacher. Nearing retirement age. Tough as nails, demanding as a drill instructor. She was also eminently fair, demanding a 100% effort from everyone in the class, without exception. If someone needed extra help, she was ready to tutor after hours.
This lady pushed us mercilessly and drove us to excel. The one class took at least half my homework time. And I have thanked her in absentia ever since. I only wish I had the chance to go back and thank her in person, but she passed away before I matured enough to recognize the great things she did for her students.
So, Mrs. Given, if you’re listening in, THANK YOU.
My first teacher and the one who had and still has the most impact on me is my father. He instilled in me the value of hard work. He also encouraged my early-for-my-age reading. And, he started my life-long love of movies. A steady diet of Peter Sellers movies.
The second greatest teacher I’ve had was my 7th grade Latin teacher, Ms. Fillion. If anyone could make a dead language fun to learn, she certainly could. The downer was getting Sister Smith the next year. No passion. No imagination.
My 4th and 5th grade French teachers were also great. Thank you Mrs. Green and Ms. Mellon.
My 3rd grade homeroom and math teacher, Ms. Anderton was my first crush.
My 8th grade English teacher, Mr. Walton, taught me that all stories no matter the color, class or race of the characters hold universal truths. Love, hate, fate, faith. These are compelling themes. And, are always present in the best stories I’ve ever read. Something that a lot of people (I won’t mention any names) surprisingly don’t get.
Anyway, there’s my quarter’s worth
La Shawn
I am sorry, but I never had a “favorite teacher” – I loved them all.
Most memorable was Sister Theophane, 7th grade, who kept a lookout at Buffalo Memorial Auditorium in 1956
I was lucky enough to have parents who sent me to Catholic school.
I thought my Nuns were mean, but “slacking off” was not an option.
Likewise, the Jesuits in Canisius HS did not cut us any slack about homework and discipline. One student said his dog ate his homework – teacher didn’t buy it.
Uncanny, your article today. Just yesterday I was thinking about the teacher who influenced me most, as well as the regret I have for not being smart enough (I was in HS…) to see that she was trying to help me find my path. Mrs. C. I had the pleasure of having her as a choir teacher from 7th through 12th grade. I love music, all kinds, and regret that I didn’t pursue it as a career; and no, I don’t mean trying to make it big with my mediocre singing voice. I mean getting behind the scenes and directing, or mixing or writing… anything in music.
My best teachers have been my college professors. Natalie Berman taught the two English classes I was taking my first semester at Nevada State College. She had the perfect mix of moderator, coach and teacher. The discussions she led online were lively to say the least and she allowed us to take chances with our writing and our projects. This allowed us to really enjoy the classes and I am thrilled to say I got A’s in both classes.
I just hope that when I become a teacher that one day a student will say those things about me that I see here on this blog.
My favorite teacher was Coleen Dalton, my fourth grade teacher. She was amazing! She was so creative and resourceful and made learning fun. We did so many things in that class that I’ve never seen done since. We were always busy, never had time to be bored, and learned so much. It was fun, but Mrs. Dalton also expected a lot from us in return.
Did I mention how strict she was? Despite her ability to make school fun, she was unfailingly strict with discipline. We knew what was expected from her, and knew we would catch it if we messed up, as we all did from time to time.
I last saw her about nine years ago when I was back in my hometown and stopped by her classroom. It was amazing to see how many things were still the same in the classroom. As I had seen her a few times over the years she remembered me. I remember sharing with her how she was one of the factors that had led to me choosing to become an elementary teacher myself. I had the chance to tell her how much she meant to me. I am glad I took the time to stop that day. To my knowledge, she is still teaching and influencing children to be all that they can dream of becoming. Thank you, Mrs. Dalton, for believing in us and teaching us so well.
I am no longer teaching as I am staying home raising our son. I look forward to homeschooling our children and know that I’ll incorporate many of the things Mrs. Dalton did in our classroom. As I look back at my life, she is one of the most influential people in it. I am grateful for all she did and gave to us.
God bless you both and may you both have a happy hearafter!
Great story.
The teachers I still remember are the ones that pushed me to be more than what I was. They were the ones that new I wasn’t working up to potential and pushed me to push myself. I’ll never forget them.
The specific teacher that influenced me the most was the principal when I was in the 2nd grade. Principals of small schools still taught back then. I wasn’t reading up to grade level and she was in charge of the special reading program. She let the teachers continue to teach us the mechanics, but took the children who were catching on slower to the school library once a week. She taught us to love books, love reading, the sound of words and to love libraries. By the end of the year we were all reading above grade levels. To this day I love to read, love libraries and have spent hours in them all over the world. I owe it all to that one principal/teacher 35 years ago.
You’re one of my teachers now. You are making an impact now. La Shawn don’t stop blogging (teaching) I look forward to your positive impact.
Mr. Kruzan ! I’ll never forget Mr. Kruzan, my physics teacher. I was an odd child, still am, but Mr. Kruzan got a big kick out of me when all the other kids poked fun and ridiculed me. While everyone else thought I was weird, Mr. Kruzan was amused. It wasn’t unseemly either; he was in his late 70s, early 80s.
You know it was interesting in high school in 1985…all my teachers were in their late 60s or 70s. I think teaching was different back then, and teachers stayed in it for life, or were close to retirement.
I can’t imagine today’s high schoolers being taught by teachers all under 40…under 30, actually. After 30, they all move on to administration, or bigger and better. Sad that kids don’t get the joy and verve that the older generation has to give.
NYT did a story about a substitute teacher in his 70s……that was the way it was for me when I was in high school, all my teachers were that age.
The older teachers had character and humor, and that is probably missing from today’s younger teachers who don’t care.
Thanks for doing this thread, La Shawn, it made me remember my Mr. Kruzan, —my sort-of substitute Grandfather….and a completely different time in education.
Mrs. Wilder.
I was having trouble in trigonometry, partly because I was playing catch up the first 1.5 years in high school, partly because the teacher was a self professed redneck pig farmer who didn’t believe Blacks belonged in the school. In fact, when a Black Jr. found another method of solving a triangle, he was quoted as saying the student was nothing special and that there are smarter people in the school.
I was having troubles with the teacher, and had a run in with him on a couple of occasions. The last run in concerned getting kicked out of his class because I responded, “yeah” when he asked me if I understood a point.
Mrs. Wilder got mad. She had a son who was a Sr. in the naval academy. She had him travel to Baltimore to tutor me in trig.
After the final exam, in the morning, I had her exam in the afternoon. Afterwards, she asked me how I did and I told her I didn’t know.
She got on the in school telephone system:
“C. I’m calling about Brown. What score did he get?
“Was that good enough to pass? It was! Then that’s good enough isn’t it!”
In Jr. High I didn’t have to work to get good grades. In fact, sometimes I completed my home work from one class in the following class.
Because I didn’t develop the study habits necessary, I had trouble the first 1.5 year of high school. After that, I kicked butt.
OH, BTW. This is what I remember of my high school classes:
1st year: Algebra, Geometry, Trig, mechanical drawing, Englsh.
2nd year: Analytic Geometry, Trig II, Algebra, architectural drawing.
3rd year: Intro to electrical engineering, Algebra, Calculus, perspective drawing
4th year: Calculus, Stats & Probability, Mechanical Drawing (The Globe Valve), Thermodynamics.
Yeah. High School.
This June marks 19 years since graduating high school. I still keep in touch with my 6th grade teacher, and have ever since she was my teacher. Being an Army brat, it was somewhat surprising that she attended my high school graduation, as we were back in the same place we’d been when I was in 6th grade (I was not her only student graduating – she I had some of the same classmates who were teachers’ kids and had never moved away). I also keep in touch with a couple of my high school teachers. He was my government teacher, and his wife was my accounting teacher. I’ve also kept in touch with them since graduating. All three of these teachers are now retired, and I actually had the opportunity to go visit Mr. & Mrs. K when I was in Pennsylvania on a business trip, and had a couple of days before I had to be to “work” (during the 2000 Presidential Election: I always thought Mr. K was a conservative/Republican and was surprised to learn I was mistaken. I would see Mr. & Mrs. K in church on base, too. When visiting, I went to church with them, and we talked politics. He would have liked to have voted for Gore, but could not do so because of Gore’s position on abortion. I did receive an email recently that tells me Mr. K is anti-illegal immigration, too. I’m not sure of his views on the War in Iraq/War on Terror, though. Although, I do know he doesn’t fall into the left-wing moonbat category (like I think my HS German teacher from the same HS is).
Very good post! I can really relate.
My journalism teacher was basically my unknown savior. I was a sophmore, just moved to a little fly speck town in California from Long Island. I was from “white trash” and knew it. The first nine years had been spent in Catholic schools with many of my “betters” letting me know from the get go what they thought of me.
By the time I hit a public school campus in the tenth yrear I really didn’t care about anything and wanted the world to know it. My journalism class was the first in the morning and I made it a point to always be late. One morning the teacher, Bill MacKenzie, chewed me out in front of the whole class for it. I came in even later the next day.
He told me to stay after class, “This is it! This is where I get tossed.” I thought.
After everyone else had left he approached me with a look of genuine concern and softly asked, “Is there some sort of problem you have I should know about”?
I was floored but quickly recovered and assured him that nothing was wrong, I’d merely been sleeping late and promised not to do it again. Never did either.
Looking back on it that was a turning point in my life. All my other teachers, both the nuns and lay teachers alike, had never hesitated to unload on me. This guy was 100 per cent different.
After that I started to slowly climb out of the hole I’d been in. Never did become a journalist, joined the Navy and retired as a mechanic. Now I’m a handyman.
But I’ll never forget that guy. God bless him always.
Wow, Darkstar, you were really advanced in Math. I didn’t take Calculus until college.
In 12th grade we had something called “Math Analysis”, if I’m recalling correctly, that was PreCalc with some Trig thrown in.
I actually loved math. I loved those Trig identities, and functions, and you could use a “Texas Instruments” calculator with all the programmable functions. A single problem would take half the page, but it was fun solving them, plus you’d get credit just for showing your work, even if you wound up with the wrong answer after all that effort—at least that’s how it was in my school. I almost majored in Math, but decided not to; as I didn’t know what I’d do with it—wasn’t going to teach or go into engineering.
Again, I had a very old old old lady math teacher in her 70s with a thick New York accent. I loved having these older quirky teachers, very eccentric. Made going to class fun! I doubt teachers are like that nowadays in the public schools. I can only imagine what today’s students have to endure.
I attended public schools in New York City, specifically in Queens and later in Manhattan.
In elementary school, I remember my 4th, 5th, and 6th grade teachers, Ms.Levy, Ms.Bailowitz and Ms.Furschmidt. That was back when the school system in NYC still had many Jewish teachers. But what was so wonderful was that each of these teachers treated us like we were their own. They encouraged us to be proud of doing well academically, and they made the classroom a comfortable, happy place.
In Junior High, it was my homeroom and French teacher Ms.Santangelo. She used to wear these wrap dresses that showed a little cleavage, and she was both hysterically funny and warm at the same time. We once dug up some worms, placed it in an apple on her desk, then sat and waited for her to enter. When she saw the writhing worms atop the fruit, she flew back against the wall–all drama (and I am sure a bit of acting)– and raised her voice in mock anger demanding to know who did it. Another time I remember my friend kind of daydreaming as he stared in her direction and she said, “Adam! Adam! Are you looking at my chest?” causing him to turn all red. She was a hoot: always happy, encouraging, and slightly sexy.
In high school, there was Mr.Illman and Mr.Walsh, and they were almost polar opposites. Illman was older, balding, and told the corniest jokes, but he was a lot of fun and clearly loved teaching English. Day after day he showed up with a smile and enthusiasm. He also encouraged my writing. Mr. Walsh was–at first glance, quiet and stern– turned out to have a wicked sense of humor. Once he established order, and made us scared to act out, he then let things loosen up and had us laughing with his dry wit. Just purely cool as a teacher. They were both knowledgeable as English teachers and showed up ever day as though it was their first.
The elementary teachers encouraged my creative side (in art) and the high school teachers encouraged me to write. As of yet, I’m afraid, I’ve not reached the potential they imagined in me, but then again, I am not dead yet, so perhaps the tree will grow fruit. And while I am a big believer in school choice, homeschooling, private schools and shaking up the system a bit, I can honestly say that the plurality of my public school teachers were excellent.
I too was a high school slacker. I didn’t have the motivation or interest due to my home life. It wasn’t a bad home just one that was disconnected from what was going on at school and inside me. Anyway, I appreciate your story because after many other jobs/careers I am a school teacher now. I have been a special educator for the last 5 years and a substitute for 5 years before that. I have maybe like 2-3 teachers I would like to thank. and that’s a shame. I actually found my first grade teacher but I didn’t e-mail or anything. Because of your story I think I will and also try to find the other 2 teachers.
For reasons now forgotten, I decided to run for Junior class president when I was in high school. Up until the moment I stepped up to the podium, I was a virtual unknown in a population of approx. 1,200 students. Although I made it into a run-off election, I didn’t win. The real life changer took place a few days later.
My sister happened to be in a speech class that semester that was taught by the Speech/Debate coach. This teacher happened to be in the audience when I gave my speech. She must have seen something in me of which I was unaware. She sent word to me through my sister that she wanted to talk to me. I did go talk to her and she told me that would be the next state oratory champion and a champion debater if I took her class.
I did take debate class for the next two years and I was the state oratory champion. More importantly, those two years of debating gave me an invaluable skill. I learned to think and reason in a logical and analytical manner, speak confidently and articulately, consider all evidence and speak intelligently based on factual evidence to the pro and con of issues.
Once on a return trip from a debate tournament while other students were asleep. She quietly spoke to me about my future. She told me that it was absolutely important that I go to college. That if I had any difficulty in finding a way that I was to call her and she would help me in any way possible.
Thirty-five years later I ruminate over that pivotal influence in my life. I came from a large impoverished Hispanic family living in a rural area of Idaho. Although my parents believed in hard work and education, that extra confidence builder my debate coach gave me those last two years of high school was a life changer.
She singled me out and took an interest me and for that I’ll be forever grateful. Thank you Mrs. Toolson.
Israel
Jean Bannerman was my ninth-grade Western Civ. teacher. For the first few months we all hated her, and called her many mean names behind her back. She taught several sections of the same course, so those of us in the 7th period class all knew when we were having a pop quiz … until one day when she gave one to our class the day before all the others! Gumchewers had to remove the glob from their mouths and wear it on the end of their noses until the end of class. She was Draconian in her strictness, an impossibly tough grader, and never cracked a smile until after Thanksgiving.
But we were learning a great deal, and by the end of the first semester, she had us eating out of the palm of her hand. When I signed up for her US History class my senior year, she gave me a D on a term paper that she knew I had put no effort into (because I hated the assigned topic). Then she took me to the library and showed me how to research the topic, and gave me the opportunity to rewrite the paper (I got an A- on it).
By the way, LaShawn, Ms. G. was right about you!
I am fascinated that, though we are generationally distinct from each other, we both had a “thing” for Prince!
As to the effects of a great teacher on one’s future, I had Sister Mary Myles (later known as Sister Joan Acker), a brilliant woman whose chemistry students were finalists in the Westinghouse Science Talent Search for 10 years straight. She was wise to the shenanigans of high school girls. She was my homeroom teacher 2 of the 4 years in high school and in my senior year, when I was “coasting” through my hated chemistry class with her, she forced me to study and learn despite my inclination to do the bare minimum. In the end, what she taught me was self-discipline and the value of achievement for its own sake. I have honored this woman in my heart in all the days since I graduated in 1959 and have given full credit to her for most of the accomplishments of my life.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also pay tribute to my godmother, Miss Clara Wochele, who taught English in the Cleveland, Ohio school system for some 45 years. While she was never my teacher, she certainly was and is an abiding influence in my life. I was horrified when she sent my letters from camp back to me corrected (yes, she did), but my grammar and spelling are far better than they would have been, had I not “studied” at the Clara Wochele School. She also encouraged (nearly forced) me to read such things as the Federalist Papers when I was in high school and also encouraged me to participate in writing competitions during that time.
Somehow I think that Clara Wochele would be proud of me today – although I’m equally sure she would level some scathing critiques at some of my writings.
Geez, LaShawn, you’ve got me bawling like a baby over this entry. What a special person she was. So wonderful that you were able to contact her and let her know how great an impact she had on your life, but how sad that she died so young. Life is not fair. But I guess the important thing is to focus on the gifts that she gave and that you were able to find her and thank her for them. It will also be very important for her children to know how she affected others in a positive way.
Three. My mom was the first. Missed school off and on through the 5th, 6th, and 7th grades and mom kept me up to date (and more). Getting ready for the 8th grade was tough, all the school I had missed had me worried as can be.
It was a shock when I found out none of my classmates had taken algebra, latin or greek history, or even greek or latin derivatives yet.
8th grade was duck soup, tho my lousy work habits and even worse attitude would combine together to make high school throughly unpleasant.
My next outstanding teacher was my first college teacher while in the army in Korea. Tho I enjoyed Korea (when I could see it) I was less enthusiastic about the part of it just outside the camp gates. Mr K was the Dean of Men at Seoul University. He did not have to teach ignorant young GI s but he did. I was quite impressed by him.
My third great teacher is my darling wife. I am very much married indeed. I married a girl much better than I had any right to expect. Pat does not instruct as a teacher in a class, instead she teaches by example. I am in no way claiming the my wife is perfect, doubt if I could stand one that was perfect, but quite frankly suspect that Pat is perfect for me.
I could mention a number of class acts I was fortunate enough to meet who helped me to turn my life around, but there are so many it is hard to seperate them out.
I have two but I will talk about one of them. I was good in math and was placed in the advanced math class. But somehow Mr. M and I did not click and I started to fail. SO I was placed back in the regular course. Mr. G was one of the most hated teachers in the school and was frankly working to pay his way through flight school to become an airline pilot, which he eventually did.
Even though he did not like teaching he did have a real passion for math. He inspired me to become really passionate for math and I started to really excel and everything clicked. I am now a physicist and I owe that to Mr. G.
I just knew when I started that post that it would not have a happy ending. Sorry to hear about Mrs. M.
My favorite was Mr. Hull, my senior English teacher in Paris (my dad was stationed there). He was a Shakespearean actor in his off time and he would perform readings for us, not just of Shakespeare but of things like “Eve of St. Agnes,” playing all the parts. He was incredible.
Thanks for sharing this story.
I notice the common thread in all your stories is that the teachers with the most influence were the ones who had high expectations of their students, and as the students rose to meet those goals, they grew: knowledge, maturity, self-esteem, everything. This is sorely lacking in today’s messed up system that puts the cart before the horse. Sure, some individual teachers shine as “old school” types, but as a whole, the current system doesn’t create or encourage such excellence. Instead, administrations are busy lowering standards and pushing “touchy feely” math for the sake of self-esteem. No, I’m not bagging on teachers so please don’t anyone get defensive.
Thanks for sharing, everyone, and thank you, great teachers for using your gifts to help all of us.
My English teacher in high school. I later became an English teacher because of her.
Sometimes when I am about town, I run into some of my old students and I so enjoy seeing them again. One of my old students is now teaching my elementary aged daughter this year!
I am sorry to hear about Miss G. I’ll bet God gave you that urge to contact her so you did have that before she was gone.
For me it was Miss Wood, my 10th-grade high school English teacher, who introduced us to Strunk and White’s “The Elements of Style” and was forever reminding us that “Muddy writing reflects muddy thinking.”
This is a thrilling post, La Shawn, well written — of course — full of life and tender love for a kindred spirit. How wonderful that you were able to tell your mentor what a difference she made.
My 7th grade math teacher, Miss Deal…she was the best. She really encouraged me to pursue mathematics and push myself to the limit. I was always a good student, but she felt I was being lazy. I didnt want to admit it but I was. She really pushed me to go above and beyond when it came to Math and Science.
I’ll be starting toward my PhD in applied mathematics this coming fall. Thinking back about why I wanted to go ahead and get the doctorate, it had to be because of her.
I wish I’d had one.
I was no math whiz, but Dr. Dave Sell, algebra teacher and all-around great guy at Irving Jr. High School in Los Angeles stands out. He had a year’s worth of ties. Some of them quite whimsical. We’d always look forward to what tie he would show up in. I also contacted him with a note about 6 years ago and told him I appreciated him. He too wrote back, and said he’d received a couple letters like that in the same week. Sounded like he needed to hear that at the time, because of some difficulties with the principal.
All the kids liked him. He was encouraging and funny! He would take one day a year to talk about, of all things, advertising–and how advertisers try to manipulate impressionble jr highers like us. Very interesting! I remember one of his favorite expressions in explaining algebra to us and make it less intimidating—”It’s so easy it’s embarrassing!” Always made me smile.
That would be my teacher Mrs. K. Why K? Because she was married to a Thai National who last name had twenty-something syllables and no one could pronounce it. I was 14, maybe 15 and a freshman at the International School of Bangkok at the time. This was at the end of the Vietnam War. So our first week Mrs. K gave us an assignment to for 500 words to describe something from a different perspective. It was just supposed to be an exercise in how to properly describe something in Writing.
I tried to get the 500 words – I really did – but that was not (and is not my style) I had always been more of story teller than a writer, so when everyone else turned in their one or two pages I turned in 14. A 4,000 word story about a man trapped inside a matchbox – complete with a flash back to an evil scientist who had shrunk him, no less! And a scene where the scientist had hundred of match boxes in an oversized brandy balloon on this desk. My first Sci-Fi short story – LOL – to be 14 again!.
I remember her reading two of the pages (the description) out loud to the class the next day and seeing puzzlement in the faces of the other students at what I was describing. Each knowing that they recognized what was being written about but… not being able to place what it was. Each pupil with a raised eyebrow or a slightly cocked head, “I know what it is, but what?†was silently screamed with their sidelong glances at me. Mrs K. then read the stories title “The Matchbox†and 16 sets of eyes (classes were smaller back then!) instantly registered, “Of course!â€
I felt a rush of warmth go through my body making me shutter with pure joy. A tingling sensation that was complete ecstasy rocked through me. A feeling I still get 30 year later when I know I have written something well. It was then I knew I had to write. There was no choice. There is nothing better than that feeling.
She did mention (privately) that I do tend to run on in my writing (still working on that one teach!), much as I suppose I am doing here. She helped me with this and my mechanics (which are still horrid) and strongly encouraged me in turning regular English assignments into stories.
I have never seen her since I graduated unfortunately.
Thank you Mrs. K, where ever you are.
Some of us are late learners. The “teacher” that most changed my life is my daughter. She is living proof one can overcome envirement. Wkile not necessarily an evil person, I certainly was not all I should have been as a father. A narcisstic self centered baby boomer, she taught me it is alright to finally grow up, not just grow old. By her faith, she brought me back to God. By her example, she led me to be a volunteer and helper at Church, not just a pew sitting parishoner. This is just a small sample of what she has taught me, and continues to teach me. And now, she has given me an opportunity as a grandfather, to make up all my shortcomings as a parent. And yes, as a parent, she continues to set the standard.
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