Feeny wants to win the Geography Bee with Minkus for the 6th year in a row. Instead he takes Cory who doesn't win at all. Start watching this at 3:25 to see what I'm talking about.
In the last few days I've talked with numerous people about teaching. Not my students, the current grade book, or the specific school where I teach. The stuff beyond daily life. It has been refreshing.
Last year I read a book called 'I Remember My Teacher' and it really freaked me out when read it. You get one line to describe a teacher. What do you say?? I had immediate fears that these kids I teach would remember the one weird thing I did (and this is probably what will happen) and wondered why anyone would ever document this from a mix of people who are adults and well beyond school days.
But when I thought about my own teachers, I guess I changed my mind. I wrote about them using that same format last year because I didn't want to forget all of the things they did for me, especially in an earlier time when I wasn't the teacher myself.
I went through all of them...from the earliest teachers to the last one, Bob Salo, who helped me in senior seminar at Bethel and watched me teach (horribly, self-consciously, I might add) while student teaching. And here's what I discovered.
I knew excellent teachers.
I'm thinking about this because I want to be excellent too. Intrinsically, which is way cooler than wanting the praise of students, let me tell you. Intrinsic to me definitely means that there is something unwavering and organic about what you are when you face kids every day. Why? Because there are of course the beautiful moments when they tell you kind things, but there is also the stink eye and unexpectedly angry e-mails and grading papers at 4 am. This is not a job for someone who wants to maintain an ego. Subbing knocked that out of me for sure, and consistent teaching has reminded me of this daily since that time.
The format, though dorky in repetition, asks you to start with 'I remember...'. So I did this. I'm copying here the ones that stand out most. It's not every single teacher...for this, it's what is truest to me about education and witnessing the ways people grow up.
I remember Mrs. Knudtson because she made me want to be a teacher. She taught me how to speak up when I was shy and saved all of my Valentines for me when I had the flu and missed the class party. They were waiting for me in my cubby. I cried in relief because I thought they would get thrown away.
I remember Mrs. Metzke because she told me that though it seemed like we'd never be done with 3rd grade one day we'd be 50. Somehow in that moment I really, really I believed her, and time has felt different ever since.
I remember the safety of Mrs. Christensen’s voice in middle school.
I remember Mr. Morris making history accessible and interesting and liberating and the respect we all had for him. He told me when I was good at doing something and explained why I had potential to do good things.... He was a Christian and I could tell even though he never said it.
I remember Mr. Pownell for his expectations and Mrs. Engstrom for lending me her personal copy of a favorite book. And Mr. Cerksena for his prayers and support while I was waiting for that first job , long after I was one of his 8th grade students. He was the one to tell me that middle school teachers didn’t get to have much of an ego.
I remember Mrs. Lindholm for her winks and letting me be a 14 year old girl without laughing at me, and Mrs. Montgomery for being relentless about making me know how to score a bowling game.
I remember Mr. Sahli for his Teddy Roosevelt impressions and triggers and differentiation and enthusiasm for life and us in it.
I remember Lindenfelser because I got my first A in science in his class and he had just as much trouble not laughing when Adam Flick farted as Molly did.
I remember Neubel because he gave me freedom to unhinge and open my eyes to quotes and mannerisms that are still funny. And because he was the first one to really start calling me Miss Christians.
I remember Danielson because he asked questions like Socrates would and shared his life with us by telling us stories about Waukesha and almost being a biology major and crossing the Rubicon and Alysia and Liberia and daily living. He taught me about bias and used maps as inspired décor. He sat with us when he taught and taught me about DBQs and testing and writing and cause and effect and making life interesting. He made you NOT want to be late with no punishment but a look. He taught me good running form and encouraged me without pity when I ran last in speed workouts.
There's more...He reconnected with us with Lindenfelser in college at Cossetta’s and recently taught me about dealing with cancer. He told me he imagined I am a brilliant teacher, which was truly one of the best compliments I’ve gotten in life so far.
The Dimos family encouraged me to be an RA. They invited me into their lives and they were real. They taught me how to stay original at any age.
Jill Martin helped me understand and love and choose middle school.
I remember Sandy Horn because in my ed interview meeting she scared the procrastination out of me and instead impressed on me the rewards of being an organized teacher.
Lastly I remember Robert Salo. He had grace and compassion for many things and was always passionate about the teaching world. He told me it was a privilege to know me and see me teach and graciously suggested the changes I would need to make to become a master teacher.
He taught me how to write tests and how to learn and collaborate with colleagues. He modeled to future teachers the ways they should treat students so that they would know that they had our respect. He expected excellence and was sincere in praise. And he did this like no one else could have.
Now isn't that nice? There is unexpected legacy in much of what we do. I am going to have this in the back of my mind this week even when it doesn't feel like it. There will be moments like that, I am sure. But there were also be small, beautiful moments too. There always are.
P.S. Tomorrow I'm making snowflakes with my students. It becomes a big deal, mostly because we all need a break and I want the room to look pretty. Kids will be making snowflakes online as well after they make real ones. You should too!
http://snowflakes.barkleyus.com/
P.P.S.
On an unrelated note, I am very aware of the season of Advent this year. One good friend sent an e-mail inquiry this weekend that said, 'What would bring you joy this Christmas season?' This is what brings me joy this year...
Leaning into the wait of Advent, recognizing my role in a weary world, remembering the promises of Jesus, believing the radical story of his entrance, not forgetting about the diligence the wise men had as they looked for Jesus, an approach to patience and slow living in a scrambled, busy world, and good music.
Happy snowy December.
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