9.08.2013

teacher appreciation

Those of you who are my friends on facebook know the "share this graphic" thingy that inspired this post :)

The students are back to school, and as they go, why not pause to reflect on the teachers that have made a difference in our lives? My father and my paternal uncle were both teachers, and my mother a was library technician, so I grew up surrounded by educators. Little wonder, then, that when I stopped to evaluate what I was really going to do with my work life, I chose to become a librarian. Teaching is often a thankless and draining task, and most of the time we are in school we rarely appreciate the work or the emotional investment our teachers bring to us. I mentioned on facebook the sheer amount of after-hours work I saw my dad do, and the evenings and summers he devoted to teaching extra classes (like many teachers, my dad couldn't afford to have all the "time off" some people like to snark about). I remember the care he took with the ESL student's papers; the endless reams of tests in which students wrote of "Michael Angelo"; the Henry VIII poster that traveled from classroom to classroom and exhorted one and all to "Keep the Faith, Baby!" But one of the strongest memories I have is of the day I actually saw him in the classroom.

I was 15 or 16. had come to meet him at his school so he could take me to a dental appointment, and I was early. I sat near the back. He was teaching WWII (oh, the movies and books and articles and documentaries in our home about WWII). A map was up on one section of the wall, a film going on the other. Notes filled the blackboard. He was in constant motion. He would run a section of film, hit pause, and dash to the map, tracing borders and routes and clarifying exactly where this bit was happening. Back to the film. Pause again as he elaborated on an important point, enthusiasm filling his voice as he scribbled more notes on the board. Back to the map again, giving more context; back to the film. And beside me, his chair tipped back so he could lean against the wall, a boy in a denim jacket and a mullet, sleeping.

Sleeping? What?? YOU ARE SLEEPING THROUGH THIS??? Here was my dad, totally engaged in his subject, doing everything possible to make it immediate and dynamic and interesting, and this boy had the temerity to fall ASLEEP???? I couldn't believe it. Had I been older I might have given in to the urge to push his chair down, wake him up, and say "that's my dad talking up there, so wake up and listen, a**hole!" But all things considered, probably better I didn't.

There are always those few teachers who leave an impression when your school days are over. Besides my dad, here are some of mine:

  • Grade 6: Mr. Bullen: A somewhat mercurial, truly dedicated man who cared about each and every one of us. He was the kind of teacher who, every time he blew his top and sent someone to the principal's office, would sit down and tell us why. "I am angry because I care about what happens to you," he would say. "Acting like that and thinking it's okay is the kind of behaviour that leads to you flunking out of school and cleaning someone else's toilet all day. I don't want that for you, and I know you are all better than that." I went back several times to visit him after I left elementary school, and he always had time for a hug and a chat. I think the last time I saw him was right before I started University.
  • Grade 11: Mr Marion: I quaked in my boots when my math teacher left the school and we got rolled into Mr. Marion's AP class. Nothing I had heard about him was good. I failed the first few tests he gave--really failed, for the first time in my life--and then started getting honours marks in math for the first time since elementary. He didn't spoonfeed: he taught his classes like we were university students, expecting us to listen, engage, and (gasp!) take our own notes ("Why is there nothing on the blackboard for us to copy?", we wonder...). He challenged students to rise to the material and the results were amazing.
  • Citadel Theatre School/High School: David McNally: a great drama teacher and acting coach who had the knack of being able to relate to teens on their level while at the same time avoid becoming That Person Who Decided To Teach High School Because He Never Emotionally Matured Out Of High School (*cough* Andrea Truman *cough*). He is an amazing actor himself, and we all were inspired by him (oh. And we all had crushes on him. Shhhh....).
  • Grade 12: Mr. Olthius: not so much for how he taught me, but because he was insightful enough to recognize my brother's intelligence during a difficult period.

What teachers inspired you as a student? Who do you remember now? Let me know in the comments!