A Love Letter to My Teachers

13 Years of Public Schools and approximately 40 teachers

4 Years of Undergrad and about 20 professors

2 years of Grad and five professors

2 years post-grad five professors

Thats 21 years of my life in the classroom--more than half of my life + 60 teachers/educators/professors.  

Add to that about a decade of teaching college and thats 31 years in education.  

There is no other investment I have made in my life that equals or even comes close to equaling that of my education.

Beyond my family and good health, if you were to ask me what is the greatest “thing” I “have” I would tell you without hesitating, “My education!” and more specifically my two degrees.  If “full-time- student” were a paying, career option I would like to sign up! In the classroom, whether as the teacher or the student, I am alive.  It is the place where I feel most at home and “in the zone”.  

My love for learning, books, teachers, research, writing, and yes, earning grades is closely connected to the teachers who I had over that twenty-one-year period.  Some of those teachers should qualify for knighthood or maybe even sainthood because of the passion and conviction they brought to the art of teaching. Others missed the mark entirely and taught me how to not teach but collectively.  I know that I am better for having been in their classroom--the good and the bad-- and under their care.

This is my love letter.  To the good, the bad, and the downright awful--

The Saints

Dorothy Simon, 1st grade, Bowie Elementary

I love this woman so much it brings tears to my eyes.  She was everything a first grade teacher should be.  Loving, kind, and stern.  A few months into the school year, we had a new student turn up in class one day named Maya and she was from Vietnam.  She spoke very little English.  Very little.  Mrs. Simon, in her wisdom, decided to assign a student in her class to be Maya’s new best friend and show her around and get her accustomed to her new class.  Of all the kids in the class she picked me!  Me.  I was probably the last person she should have chosen and yet she did.  I wonder why?  I honestly don’t know, but I can tell you it had a tremendous impact on how I saw myself.  I am certain I was destined to teach and I like to think that my new friend from Vietnam is where that seed started growing.  I have kept in touch with Mrs. Simon through the years and feel blessed to have been her student.

Mr. Perkins, 6th grade, Bowie Elementary

Mr. Perkins was not a teacher I cared for or liked for that matter.  He never seemed to like kids, but one day we did an activity in class that changed the way I saw the world.  Changed it! One afternoon in class, in what appeared to be spontaneous--Mr. Perkins told us we were going to do an activity.  He had written down topics and put them in an envelope and one person at a time would come up and draw a topic.  I was the first one to go and I pulled out my topic.  I don't remember the topic but let's say it was "capital punishment".  Mr. Perkins asked me "do you agree or disagree with capital punishment?" 

"I disagree!" I replied and he responded "Good.  Now for the next three minutes you will argue FOR capital punishment."

Argue for? But I had just told him I was against it.  That day was a light bulb moment for me.  I had never considered taking the other side of an argument and it was a game changer.  I like to think that with that activity, my critical thinking skills muscle was flexed and I bulked up a little. 

Jennifer Nichols, Gifted and Talented English Sophomore and Junior Year, 

Coronado High School

The first assignment Mrs. Nichols handed back to me she leaned over and said, “You need to learn how to write your name better.”  It was so rude!  You might think I was instantly insulted and upset, but there was a demeanor to Mrs. Nichols that made me want to please her.  Because we were GT kids, Mrs. Nichols did not have to abide by the required reading list for English.  She could choose what we read and she chose wisely.  Mrs. Nichols introduced us to Cry the Beloved Country, by Alan Paton, and to this day it is my favorite book.  She let us read Moby Dick in the comic book version, and when we did a unit on the Medieval Period--we watched Quest For the Holy Grail in class (It’s just a flesh wound!) and that is where my love for Monty Python was born.  

Mrs. Nichols challenged us.  This was 1989-1990 and styrofoam was a BIG topic as we were all starting to become aware of issues that would soon evolve into the environmental movement.  Our class decided to take on the school district to outlaw styrofoam trays for school lunches and we went as far as getting the district superintendent to our school for a “sit down” meeting to discuss the issue.  We didn’t win--but that experience taught me a valuable lesson that I carry with me today.  I have a voice! I have an obligation to use it! School is not just about learning facts, taking tests, and getting a report card.  School is a place for learning to apply what we learn to real-life issues that we face now and in the future.  She nurtured in us a healthy approach to "civil disobedience" if you will, and also taught me that even at 16 years old, I had ideas! I had the right to voice those ideas when done in an appropriate way.  

And then there are the bad, awful, and downright deplorable.  I celebrate these teachers too because they taught me valuable lessons as well. 

I won’t name names but.....

To my 2nd grade teacher who would come back to the room after lunch and eat peanuts until she fell asleep--thank you.  You have given me fodder for high-larious stories that I have told into my adult life.  Thank you for all the Spanish films you showed us after lunch so you could nap in peace.  Did I speak Spanish? No.  Was this a dual language program we were in? Nope.  You were tired, you needed a nap, and a Spanish film must have been what was left in the A/V room to check out.  Bravo. You were an amazing lesson in how not to teach.   

My 7th grade homemaking teacher, whose name I have erased from my memory: I will never forget the day you told me in class, in front of everyone, that you hated me.  And it was not joking around. What class in college did you learn that technique? The lesson: no matter how frustrating someone might be--it is never cool or acceptable to speak like that to a student.

To my senior English teacher: Do you remember telling me and my classmates who had all been in G/T together, “This isn’t gifted and talented so if you don’t like it, you need to get out of my class.” Um...Ok.  Or what about pulling girls you deemed worthy into the hallway to discuss their sorority reference letters? I love that you took class time out of the day to handle this oh-so-very important piece of business.  This spoke volumes to me about where your priorities lied as a teacher.  I loved the day you humiliated my friend in class, who had narcolepsy, by talking about him to the rest of the class.  So classy! (no pun intended).  And yes, giving my husband a copy of a previous student's senior theme with the instructions, "just modify it a little and turn it in" makes me a little crazy, I can't lie.  

For every student, there will be the good, the bad, and the downright awful. In my estimation, any student is truly blessed if she/he has four to five outstanding teachers.  Outstanding.  I don’t mean nice or sweet or loving.  I had some of those but I don’t think that necessarily qualifies as outstanding.  Outstanding is a distinction reserved for those who push their students to higher places.  These teachers understand teaching is both art and science.  It is theatrical at times, and quiet at other times.  It is introspective and asks lots of questions.  Great teachers set their students free and give them room to grow.  I had a few of those.  I consider each of them a blessing.