Education

Instructional Gladiators

Today I reflected on my hopes for this year, and realized I have two different teachers inside. They seem always to be wrestling, with one on top some days, the other on top on others.

One of them approximates my second grade teacher, Mrs. S. She was my favorite teacher of all time. In the class picture from her class, I look comfortable, and bursting with joy and mischief.

She knew how to let us be ourselves, and celebrated us. Not in showy ways. I don’t remember any Robin Williams style antics. But I do remember being completely at home. Once when I was sick and missed the surprise going away party for the student teacher, she called me and gave me a job: call the office and ask to talk to the student teacher at a certain time of day. While the student teacher was going to the office to talk to me, the class would set up the party. It was an important job! It made up for the fact that I was missing the party.

The second teacher approximates my third grade teacher, Mrs. C. In her class picture, I looked very different — huddled, stern, one hand pressing the other hard into my knee, trying to hide.

She ran a tight ship, and she had beautiful handwriting. I loved watching it grow from the end of the chalk when she wrote on the board. There was an organ in the classroom, and we could take turns playing it during free time. We could draw, too, and place our finished drawings in a basket. I drew horses. Horses with thin-waisted girls on them, riding and performing spectacular feats. One day she called me over to the desk and said, “No more horses. No more girls.” That was that.

I have both person-loving Mrs. S. and structure-loving Mrs C. inside me. I could launch into a commentary about how both are necessary. But frankly I would rather be Mrs. S. all the time! I did better this year than last, and hopefully will do better still next year.

Who was your favorite teacher growing up? It’s interesting to me how little I remember of the academics of the classroom — and how much I remember of the interpersonal.

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