I just read a post from a teacher-acquaintance, written in honor of Teacher Appreciation Day and the many, many teachers who have been a part of shaping him.
It was so beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes, and I don't even know any of the people he referenced.
It brought to mind the long list of teachers who have been part of shaping me. So I'm writing my own list. It isn't exhaustive, but more of a highlights reel.
Preschool: YWCA, Pottstown, PA
Mrs. Corey--you took a large group of little kids and showed us how to get along like civilized people. Also, Show and Tell was the best.
Kindergarten: Westmont Christian Academy, Pottstown, PA
Miss --I don't remember much of any detail about you, except I LOVED you. At home, playing school with my little brother, I took your name as my own teacher name. And I taught him real stuff.
1st-8th grades: St. Aloysius School, Pottstown, PA
Mrs. Sutton--I was in terrible awe of you, until I learned that outside of school you went by the name "Muffin." Then I began to see and appreciate you as someone loving and lovable under that strict eyebrow.
Mrs. Zale--Mostly I remember your "spelling chants," such as shouting "A-L-O-Y-ESSEYE-YOUESS!" I do spelling chants with my own kids.
Sister Madeline--As the school librarian, you shared stories with us (a few of which I still sort of remember!) and taught us how to effectively use the library. I still use your lessons.
Mrs. Matuch--I have never known what the hullabaloo was about, and why you ended up leaving--and I don't want to know. But I thought you were a wonderful teacher, kind, patient, and I missed you so much.
Mrs. Urban--For the first time, it was okay for handwriting to slant "backward," because you were left-handed and that's the way it was. Partly because you were left-handed, and partly because one of the boys broke his right wrist and struggled for weeks and weeks to do his schoolwork, I began practicing to write with my left hand, just in case I ever need to rely on it. I also loved the ways you brought tangible, experiential things to lessons, like writing to a favorite company (I picked Crayola), building dioramas, or inviting my aunt to do a presentation on her recent trip to Israel.
Mrs. Renninger--Gym class and Music. I still remember all sorts of games, from class and also played out in recess. Confession: about that Presidential Physical Fitness award...I probably didn't drop a popsicle stick. I probably just never ran that tenth lap around the convent, and some other girl probably should have received the honor of "fastest mile." But Music! I never really thought I had a nice voice, but I always loved to sing. And though Religion Song, in the quiet church on Friday afternoons, wasn't technically music class, your facilitation of those afternoons form some of the most peaceful, warm memories of my time at St. Al's. And they were the foundation of a lifetime of singing.
Sister Nancy--As the school counselor, you helped me (and my parents) navigate being a Protestant kid in a Catholic school. I appreciate that. You were a picture of gentleness.
Mrs. Fisher--If I ever become a "real" teacher, it will be along the same blueprint as you. Your combination of a love for science and the experiments and demonstrations you did with us, real lessons and quality in artwork, and skydiving over Hawaii in your personal time really just suit me fine. I loved your teaching, even when that was about the most difficult year of my social life. You also taught me that "suite" is a different thing from "sweet." Fifths graders also happen to be my favorite age group to work with.
Mrs. Foley--Similar to Mrs. Sutton, we were all in dread that you became the sixth grade English teacher, because as a substitute we already had our opinions. And then we heard your mouse sneezes, and realized you were a real person that was fun and likable. Substitute teaching doesn't really offer much chance for our best personalities to shine through, does it? I still sing the Preposition Song.
Mrs. Hennessey--There is so much about you that I appreciated. By the end of eighth grade, I could tell you everything about the mechanics of any sentence, and I happened to think that was awesome. I memorized the first chapter of Stuart Little for a forensics competition, and you affectionately called me "Topo Gigio" after a favorite cartoon mouse. My best friend didn't appreciate that her mom was also her teacher, but I really appreciated that my teacher was also my best friend's mom--especially for that week that I went with your family to the beach. That was so fantastic. I still have the volume of poetry you presented to me at graduation.
Mrs. Linderman--I think you taught some Gym classes, but the gem I internalized from you was the day we chatted about my life-long bad habit of nail chewing. You told me that what worked for you was keeping your nails consistently trimmed, filed, and clean--it made your nails strong. Lo and behold, it worked for me too, when nothing else had. I still have nice nails because of it.
Mrs. Kelly--Your drilled-in outlining skills have served me very well. And your line-by-line, precept-on-precept note taking instruction made me a good student, a capable learner. I still use those skills.
Mrs. Lavelle--Your science lessons continue to inform my knowledge and way of thinking about the world, and to be an epitome of instruction in my book. I still have my copy books. I saved them all, because I thought they were beautiful. Still do. They're like scrapbooks of my favorite lessons.
