Last week I attended the Oklahoma State Department of
Education’s Vision 2020 Conference: Stepping Up. It was a refreshing week of professional
development, where I learned a few more things before I begin my entry year of
teaching. While I was there, I ran into two of my high school teachers/coaches.
We reminisced of the days when I was their student, which welcomed a time of
reflection the next couple of days of my entire educational experience and all my previous educators.
As an education major, I was always given a hard time that
my major was a blow-off, easy, and pointless choice. People always joked with me
that all I did was color and play in my early childhood courses. I was never
given a coloring sheet as an assignment and playing is not just playing—it is
how young children learn. Nevertheless, what bothered/bothers me most to hear
is the ignorant quote: “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” What
ignorance! I know there are a few teachers out there who we can
thank for such a stereotype. I was a student of some. The number of good
educators I encountered outweighed the number of poor ones greatly, though.
So, this post is for those educators of excellence I had the
honor and privilege to learn from—the ones that I will strive to be like
through my career, the ones who could have done anything, but CHOSE to teach, and the ones who LOVE to teach. They do so much more than we realize.
(DISCLAIMER: This blog is approximately 18 years in the
making; I know I will forget lessons and stories about some of the most amazing teachers. If I wrote about every one, this would be considered a book.)
Teachers
teach.
In kindergarten, I learned the importance of hand washing
thanks to my teacher who had us place our dirty, playground hands into slices
of bread that we hid away for a few days. When we pulled them out, I will never
forget what I saw. GROSS! To this day, I am extremely conscious about germs and regularly washing my hands. My kindergarten teacher also receives the credit for
teaching me the difference between the words “but” and “butt.” I am sure she
would be happy to know I still laugh about that week of sight words. It was a
life-changing lesson that is for sure.
A teacher I had in seventh grade had us keep a lexicon
journal. We learned a new word every day. I still use several of the words
today, including “parched.” She developed my love of language and my vocabulary by the lexicons,
but I would have to say that those were not the most important lessons she
shared. No, the most important ones were the life lessons she gave throughout
knowing her—whether in her classroom or driver’s education. One lesson I
regularly think about was a lesson on being comfortable with silence. As a
person who enjoys talking, I realized on that day that it is okay to be quiet.
It is okay to be comfortable in silence with the person I am with. (My husband
probably greatly appreciates that I was taught this lesson then).
Teachers encourage.
As a second grader, I decided I liked to write. During my
free time at school, I would jot short stories down in my notebook. Most of
them were addressed to my teacher. I would take each one up to her to read. She
had twenty other children to tend to, a ton of tasks to be completed, and a
tray of papers that actually had to be graded, but she read them. She wrote
little notes back to me about each one. Her little notes of encouragement perhaps are the
reason I still enjoy writing today and have this blog.
I had a coach early on in high school that had an
interesting way of encouraging me. I ran track for him and his love for
track and field was contagious. I had never enjoyed running “for no reason”
prior to knowing him. During practice, he would time my races and record my
long jumps. He would always shed two seconds from my run time and nearly add a
foot to my distance. Two seconds is a huge difference in the 200 meter dash and
twelve inches is a monumental difference in a long jump. The crazy thing is, I
believed him. I thought I was as fast as he said and jumped as far as he said.
I noticed the discrepancy at actual meets later on, but by that time, I had
realized his tactic had given me much needed self-confidence in a land of girls
with very long legs. I was a regional champion in long jump as a freshman
thanks to him.
Teachers broaden
horizons.
English classes had always come easily to me and became my
favorite subject early on. I thought since I loved English, I was supposed to
hate Math. I came into my Geometry class with a poor attitude towards Math.
After having the teacher I did for Geometry, Algebra II, and Trigonometry, I
began to like it. He was a quirky Math teacher who was not afraid to answer my
one million and one questions and explain just why I needed to know this for my daily
life. Even though I cannot remember any of the reasons now, I know he believed in what he was teaching me, which made me much more apt to listen.
Another teacher throughout high school took it upon himself
to teach me anything and everything about the agriculture world. As a farmer’s
daughter, I only thought I knew a lot. He definitely expanded my horizons by
teaching me several lessons I would have never learned from anyone else. I can recognize different breeds of pigs, sheep, and cattle. I
still recite the FFA Creed on occasion and know how to weld without burning my
bangs off my head.
Teachers love.
My first grade teacher went through a not so fun experience
with me while I was in her class. From the week before spring break to the last
day of school that year, I made myself sick every single morning so
that I may not have to stay at school. Instead of letting me leave every day,
she gave me a can of Sprite and a packet of crackers and would hold my hand in
moments of fear to keep me there. She would not let one poor teacher ruin my
entire experience. I am forever grateful for the love she showed. If not for
her, I would probably not have liked school for the remainder of my time and
definitely would not have been inclined to choose the profession I have.
Although I learned many, many things from my fourth grade
teacher (like the 50 states and capitals that I still know today thanks to her
jingles), I remember her love the most. She greeted each student outside her
door every morning with a hug or handshake. She created personal “happy
birthday” songs for each of her students. (Mine included a line about dodo
birds!) Oh! And she had the most creative way of getting rid of the hiccups...
She was absolutely outstanding!
Teachers
care.
Coaches often come and go rather quickly in small schools. My first two years of
high school basketball, my team won one game. It was not fun. I dreaded game
days. I dreaded practices after losing by fifty points. I dreaded another
season of the same ol’, same ol’. Well into the summer before my junior year,
we did not have a coach. Who would want to take on this challenge? One guy did.
He asked for my team—my team of misfits. It was not Burger King; we could NOT
have it our way, but his care to take the challenge of coaching us was inspiring to me. After all, he asked for us. He wanted to coach us. He was not made to do
it. My senior year we made it to the regional tournament for the first time in
over a decade all because he chose to care.
In college, I took a general education course where the
professor had multiple sections with over sixty students in each. She
made it her goal to get to know every one of her students’ names. I was a non-major who, even after years of exposure,
did not care for the content area she taught; that did not matter. I enjoyed
going to her class because I knew she cared about me as a person. After the semester I had her in
class, she would still stop me across campus, calling me by name, having
meaningful conversations about life. At graduation, as I was walking off the
stage from receiving my diploma, she called me by name. She gave me a
congratulatory hug and told me how proud she was of me. She cared.
Teachers
prepare their students for the real world.
I had the same science teacher all four years of high
school. He was a great teacher that helped me actually understand science by
his intriguing stories. Having him four years in a row, we heard the same
stories on the same topics each year. By our senior year, all of us students
would just giggle uncontrollably each time we heard a familiar line. He is the
high school teacher that prepared me for college the most. He formatted his
lectures in the exact same way most of my college courses did. Thanks to him, I
knew what to expect.
I was a one-girl track team the majority of high school. Not
many people want to work with just one person. One coach did. And although I
thought he was unfair and mean when he told me I had to work out twice a day
(athletic hour and after school), it made me better. I contemplated quitting every
time he made me do the same workout as the boys and I would get smoked, but it
made me better. He taught me how to push limits that I had placed on
myself. He taught me how to persevere, even when I did not want to.
Teachers
become friends.
Administrators can make or break a school. I would say the
best administrators involve themselves in their students’ lives. I had a
superintendent that left his door open. Anyone could waltz in when he was not
busy, have some candy, and talk about anything. We talked about the day, the
weather, the news, the game the night before, my family, life’s big decisions,
etc. He became a part of my family. I literally call him “Uncle.” He calls and
leaves me a voicemail every year on my birthday and I call him to help me make
decisions.
Some teachers I was not able to have in class, but I still
developed a relationship with. They would spend their lunchtimes or planning
periods just listening to me ramble on and on about my life. In junior high,
any thing that happens feels like the end of the world. They did not push
me or any of my peers away. They just listened. They were friends.
Teachers go
above and beyond.
One day in junior high, I was wandering the halls, trying to
remain the invisible 7th grader that I was when tons of freshmen
started to approach me. “Why did you scratch our English teacher?” they asked.
“Um, uh, uh…I didn’t. I have no idea what you are talking about,” I managed to
stammer out. Soon after, I hear a voice calling me to her door. “I am so sorry
for the confusion, I forgot to tell my class that I have a cat named Madison.”
Instant connection. We bonded immediately. I had her for three classes during
high school. She attended every sporting event she could of her students to
take pictures for the yearbook; she even caught a shot of me crossing the
finish line at a track meet that proved I deserved the gold medal instead of
the silver. I graduated. She
retired. We still keep in touch. She has not missed celebrating any of my
special moments. I receive the sweetest cards and gifts upon every special
occasion. There is nothing that says she has to do that, yet she still does.
I can easily say that every teacher I had changed my life.
They each taught me a lesson that I still can recall to this day or a skill
that I still use. One professor in college became my mentor. She is a
genius of early childhood education. She has taught me more than she will ever
know. I often find myself thinking “WWCD?” when I cannot figure out exactly what
to do for my classroom. I can call her, text her, run into her at the store and she will just share her
experiences and wisdom with me. I want to be just like her. I really do.
These are only a few lessons I learned and stories of some
of the most superior teachers on the planet! They do not receive the credit they deserve. I am PROUD
to be entering into the greatest profession possible. I hope to teach, inspire,
encourage, and love my students the way my teachers demonstrated to me.
I could have been a brain surgeon.
How do I know?
A teacher told me I could.
I will change the world by being a teacher.
How do I know?
A teacher showed me I could.
Just a Teacher...
I heard you say the other day,
“Oh, you’re just
a teacher anyway.
You laugh and play your day away.
You’re free at three, have your summers off.”
You snickered softly and even scoffed.
I’m sad to say, that you just don’t see,
What being a teacher means to me.
Sure, I laugh and play my day away…
Because learning is fun and that’s just my way.
If I were free at three and had my summers off,
I’d too snicker softly and even scoff…
Unfortunately my paycheck does, but I do not.
But you see Good Sir, Ma’am, Madam, or Miss
Being just a
teacher is much more than this.
I just teach your
child to read and write,
To just explore
and question,
To just think and
be bright.
I just dry their
tears when they’re having a bad day.
I’m just there
for them in each and every way.
Your most precious asset just deserves a lot.
And being just a
teacher, I am not.
I dare you to just take
a closer look.
For being just a
teacher doesn’t come in a book.
It comes from the heart and it’s a passion, you see.
So, being JUST a
teacher is fine by me!
