OCR Text |
Show :n, ;.r,,-;t vSJ W. " rWi- !fr.y bnr; ''( vrh orfl 9V " I by Teri Gomes I In appreciation of teachers I have a small confession to make: I had always thought when I grew up I would be a teacher. Not a math teacher oh, no or a history teacher or (shudder) a science teacher. No, I had always hoped to teach those three Rs reading, 'riting and rhetoric. I dropped out of college after just a year and half to major in motherhood. Poetry classes and creative writing became a thing of the past. I learned rather quickly that parents are teachers (albeit limited ones) and .soon my days were spend teaching ABCs, basic numbers and colors. By the time my first child was ready for school, I was more than ready for him to attend. He needed someone else to teach him ideas and concepts that would open the world to him. Children reach a point where mommy doesn't have the answer. During his kindergarten year, my son's father and I decided to divorce, and I learned that teachers are sometimes called upon to help the whole child grow. Barbara Gordon became more than Randy's teacher, she became our friend. Then in first grade Randy had a tough old-school teacher who insisted Randy be pushed, not coddled. I can see her face, but I can't recall her name. She was terrific and Randy blossomed under her watchful eye. By the time Randy hit second grade, his sister had entered kindergarten and I had decided to sell my business, and move to a funky little town I had discovered on my vacation. In mid-year I plucked the kids out of everything that was familiar to them and moved here. Those of you (Bob Toy and Mom) who are frequent readers of this column know that Randy will graduate this week from the eighth grade. He is a bright, active, iairly well-adjusted kid, and I can take very little credit for that. When we moved here, Randy encountered some of the finest teachers possible, who cared for his total growth far beyond the few hours they spent with him in class. v It was March when I enrolled Randy in the old Marsac School and he joined a second grade guided by a team of teachers Mrs. Smith (aka Betsy Bacon), Mrs. Reed and Mrs. Cole. They cared for him and made certain he was included in after-school activities with nice kids who became his friends. They inquired how I liked my part-time part-time job at the Timberhaus and they laughed (nicely) at my first few columns that appeared in the old Park . Record. And they included me in social functions that had nothing to do with school or my child. My children and I learned so much that spring. ' Randy moved into third grade with Tommy Tanzer as his teacher and he and I conferred often about my child. It was Mr. Tanzer's first year of teaching and he saw Randy as a real helper and leader in the class. Trouble was, after he had been class mayor six times in a row, the other kids sort of resented him. And he resented helping other kids with their work when he finished his own. Tommy and I had met so often and talked so much that fall that when time came for me to announce my engagement, he was one of the first to know. He made certain he monitored Randy's feelings about his new stepdad in such a way that by the year's end I knew Randy had been very lucky to have this sensitive man as his teacher, especially during that year. : Fourth grade came for Randy and teaching it was one of my all-time favorite teachers (for both children) Martha Crook. I found in her, a teacher committed to excellence, a no-nonsense lady who could still have fun in the classroom but whose students always knew what was expected of them. It was Martha's questions of the week (little pearls like why is the sky blue?) that would send our family scurrying for answers that often weren't easily found in books. And when summer came, Martha created a reading list for those children who would, in no time, be "bored." Fifth grade was taught by Terri Wiss and Randy started out learning all she taught. Then she decided to send him to the library for independent study projects. Instead of feeling honored, he felt awkward, singled out and lonely. After just one conference, she selected three more top students, made two teams and had the kids going to the library to search for well-hidden answers. Randy was happy that year and Terri Wiss helped to prepare him for the big transition to the middle school. Randy was part of the first class to attend the new Treasure Mountain Middle School. For three years he has had the positive zany influence of Principal Brian Schiller. He has gone on all three of the outdoor education experiences offered and he has been part of after-school sports. He has been first clarinet in the band for more than two years and his curriculum fair projects have gone from comical to creative. There have been so very many middle school teachers Randy has learned a great deal from. One of the most special is famed storyteller Sam Sevier (though I doubt that is even his real name). Sam, who invariably will give examples and use the names of Joe for a man and Wobolena for a woman, made learning fun and funny for Randy. It really didn't matter what class Mr. Sevier was teaching, that was usually Randy's favorite. Math teacher Miss Mac (Judy MacLean) challenged Randy and made the classroom a place where the unexpected could always be expected. She doled out candy for guys who got haircuts and she yelled and teased and badgered her kids into learning concepts that mother could no longer help with. Mrs. Worley, finally this year, has Randy liking English, no easy task. And Mr. Klaismith has taught Randy science and what hippies used to look like (it was his Halloween outfit)., Mr. Fleming, not the tallest teacher at the school, has been affectionately referred to as Your Lowness (as opposed to Your Highness, you see). Mr. Ancell taught Randy good sports are as important as good athletes. And it strikes a vein with me this week that Randy is ready for high school not because of much I have done. Randy has spent more of his waking hours with the staffs of the schools than he has at home. And I couldn't be happier with the creative, loving, challenging responsive teachers he has encountered. Besides the ' academic stuff, these people have taught Randy a great deal about himself and his place in the world. This spring I returned to Besty Bacon's (Mrs. Smith's) class to spend a few hours with her students and talk to m about the newspaper writing.. I don't have any children in the elementary school anymore, but I do still have a great many friends. And even though it wasn't exactly teaching like the pros do, Besty probably didn't know I was living out a fantasy of my own. I'd still like to teach when I grow up. |