Tomorrow is Teacher Appreciation Day. As a teacher, I certainly appreciate all the work that teachers do. I guess it would be silly to imagine that anyone who is a teacher would not appreciate all that teachers do. Growing up in the 50's, most little girls wanted to be a teacher or a nurse or perhaps a secretary. I pretended to be all of those. I would play nurse with my dolls, my sister and I had the nurse outfits and we would set up the basement like a hospital and bustle from crib to crib attending to our babies. I loved watching my grandmother with her typewriter and would listen to her stories about her job as secretary for Shriner's Hospital. But once I began school, I couldn't imagine a more important career than being a teacher. The teachers that influenced me the most were my elementary school teachers. I can remember each of their names and see each of their faces so clearly as if it were just yesterday that I was sitting in their classrooms. I even remember particular events that stick in my mind for each of those years. First grade, Mrs. Harrington, second grade, Mrs. Procnow, third grade, Mrs. Paulus, fourth grade, Mrs. Powell and fifth grade, Mrs. Riley and then sixth grade, Mr. Lennon. We also had a handwriting teacher, Mrs. Green, who was very, very old, at least that was my impression. Of course, all but one of my teachers were older and had been teaching many years. I guess that is how I must appear now to my students, especially since I continually remind them that I was born in the "Dark Ages".
Mrs. Green came to our classes once a week and would march up and down the rows, smacking children's desks with her ruler, reminding them to sit up straight, slant their paper, hold their pencil with the proper grip and make all letter formations correctly. For a lefty, that is particularly hard but I will never forget the one day that Mrs. Green held my paper up for example. We were practicing 'capital S', one of my favorite letters. I loved the way it swung up gracefully and curved back down like a swan. I always wished my name had been Susan so that I could make an "S" every day at the top of my paper. Instead, I had an incredibly boring "C" and a name that most mispronounced and never could spell. I suppose I could have been Cheryl with an S but then there would still be the problem of misspellings and mispronunciations.
"Look at this "S" boys and girls", she shrieked.
I felt my face burn with embarrassment, not quite sure if she was about to smack her ruler to the edge of my desk. Instead, she moved closer to my desk and put her arm around my shoulders to give me a hug.
"If a left handed writer can make such beautiful "S"s , then so should all of you!" she announced. It was a compliment, of such, but still, I slipped down lower in my hard wooden seat, wishing that I might disappear from sight. Being the center of attention was an uncomfortable feeling for me. I rarely raised my hand to answer a question, on the chance that I might be wrong. Taking a risk was not my game and confidence was not something that came easily to me then. Adults were intimidating to me, unless I knew them well. I was an adult pleaser, as most oldest children are, but I was not at ease with adults around my peers. I did, however, feel at ease around younger children and as years passed, babysitting, running my own neighborhood summer camp and teaching Sunday School, kept me focused on my goal of one day becoming a teacher.
It is an amazing feeling that first time you walk into your own classroom with your own students. Knowing that they will be depending on your guidance to accomplish their goals for that year in their life. Those early years, teaching in the 70's, were incredible opportunities of change in education. Being hired in a district where the school population was growing rapidly, many of us were young, new teachers. We were a close community of educators, working together and supporting one another. In those first 9 years of my teaching career, I felt as though there could be no better place to be. Leaving to become a full time mom was one of the most difficult decisions I've had to make. I knew where I wanted to be, home with my two little boys, but I missed the opportunity to make a difference in a child's life in the classroom, and I missed not being a part of the larger community of educators I had come to rely on. They were my family too.
I have never regretted my years that I spent being with my boys growing up. Although I subbed off and on for a while, I never enjoyed being in someone elses classroom for one day at a time. I did many creative things with the time I had away from public education. Running my own home preschool, developing curriculum and tutoring for a home schooled family, all the while continuing to keep up my certification. The further I got from my full time teaching career in public schools, the more I thought that education had changed too much since I had left it. I listened to my sons' teachers and thought that this was not how I remembered those sweet days in the 70's.
Time passes quickly, and before you know it your children are grown. My sons were in college and my dogs became a huge focus for me. Showing and training and the hope to breed pulled me closer to being more of a 'doggie educator' than a child educator. That dream became reality in 2002 when I bred my black Lab, Bounty. I had entertained the idea of applying for a position back in Londonderry and had been offered some part time positions but it just didn't feel right. Quite unexpectedly, I received a call from Bedford Memorial asking if I would do be interested in taking a long term subbing posistion (just a few weeks at most I was assured), 4th grade, and so I agreed. My grandmother always told me that things happen for a reason and this was surely one of those times. By April vacation, I was insisting that I must leave, my dog was about to have her puppies and that was my priority. But I had also become attached to this class, they were 'sort of ' mine and I felt an obligation to see them through until their teacher returned. In the meantime, I was also becoming attached to the people that worked at this school. It was the same feeling that I had when I began my career in Londonderry at North School. The grade level colleagues that I had been working with encouraged me to apply for the 4th grade position opening up that next year. What was I thinking. In a rash decision, I told the principal I would like to be considered. Imagine my surprise when I was offered the position. April vacation had come and gone, Bounty had her pups and I was a full time "pup mom". Then I received a call that Bedford would like me to be a 4th grade teacher at Memorial School.
That was 8 years ago. Each year, I think, surely, there could not be a better school to teach at. The feeling of community, the support from colleagues, rivals what I had at North School. Teaching has become more demanding, at least it feels as if it has. Perhaps I am just older and there are not as many minutes in the day. But it is no less rewarding than it was that first day I walked into my very own classroom. My students have taught me as much as I have taught them.
My colleagues have enriched my life in ways I could not have experienced in any other profession. Being a teacher is a way of life. A way of life that only a teacher can understand fully and appreciate. So on Teacher Appreciation Day, I appreciate my colleagues, I appreciate the profession of teaching and the challenges it brings each day, and the opportunity it has provided me with for all these years. Personally, I will never be rich being a teacher, but my life is richer because I am a teacher.
Mrs. Green came to our classes once a week and would march up and down the rows, smacking children's desks with her ruler, reminding them to sit up straight, slant their paper, hold their pencil with the proper grip and make all letter formations correctly. For a lefty, that is particularly hard but I will never forget the one day that Mrs. Green held my paper up for example. We were practicing 'capital S', one of my favorite letters. I loved the way it swung up gracefully and curved back down like a swan. I always wished my name had been Susan so that I could make an "S" every day at the top of my paper. Instead, I had an incredibly boring "C" and a name that most mispronounced and never could spell. I suppose I could have been Cheryl with an S but then there would still be the problem of misspellings and mispronunciations.
"Look at this "S" boys and girls", she shrieked.
I felt my face burn with embarrassment, not quite sure if she was about to smack her ruler to the edge of my desk. Instead, she moved closer to my desk and put her arm around my shoulders to give me a hug.
"If a left handed writer can make such beautiful "S"s , then so should all of you!" she announced. It was a compliment, of such, but still, I slipped down lower in my hard wooden seat, wishing that I might disappear from sight. Being the center of attention was an uncomfortable feeling for me. I rarely raised my hand to answer a question, on the chance that I might be wrong. Taking a risk was not my game and confidence was not something that came easily to me then. Adults were intimidating to me, unless I knew them well. I was an adult pleaser, as most oldest children are, but I was not at ease with adults around my peers. I did, however, feel at ease around younger children and as years passed, babysitting, running my own neighborhood summer camp and teaching Sunday School, kept me focused on my goal of one day becoming a teacher.
It is an amazing feeling that first time you walk into your own classroom with your own students. Knowing that they will be depending on your guidance to accomplish their goals for that year in their life. Those early years, teaching in the 70's, were incredible opportunities of change in education. Being hired in a district where the school population was growing rapidly, many of us were young, new teachers. We were a close community of educators, working together and supporting one another. In those first 9 years of my teaching career, I felt as though there could be no better place to be. Leaving to become a full time mom was one of the most difficult decisions I've had to make. I knew where I wanted to be, home with my two little boys, but I missed the opportunity to make a difference in a child's life in the classroom, and I missed not being a part of the larger community of educators I had come to rely on. They were my family too.
I have never regretted my years that I spent being with my boys growing up. Although I subbed off and on for a while, I never enjoyed being in someone elses classroom for one day at a time. I did many creative things with the time I had away from public education. Running my own home preschool, developing curriculum and tutoring for a home schooled family, all the while continuing to keep up my certification. The further I got from my full time teaching career in public schools, the more I thought that education had changed too much since I had left it. I listened to my sons' teachers and thought that this was not how I remembered those sweet days in the 70's.
Time passes quickly, and before you know it your children are grown. My sons were in college and my dogs became a huge focus for me. Showing and training and the hope to breed pulled me closer to being more of a 'doggie educator' than a child educator. That dream became reality in 2002 when I bred my black Lab, Bounty. I had entertained the idea of applying for a position back in Londonderry and had been offered some part time positions but it just didn't feel right. Quite unexpectedly, I received a call from Bedford Memorial asking if I would do be interested in taking a long term subbing posistion (just a few weeks at most I was assured), 4th grade, and so I agreed. My grandmother always told me that things happen for a reason and this was surely one of those times. By April vacation, I was insisting that I must leave, my dog was about to have her puppies and that was my priority. But I had also become attached to this class, they were 'sort of ' mine and I felt an obligation to see them through until their teacher returned. In the meantime, I was also becoming attached to the people that worked at this school. It was the same feeling that I had when I began my career in Londonderry at North School. The grade level colleagues that I had been working with encouraged me to apply for the 4th grade position opening up that next year. What was I thinking. In a rash decision, I told the principal I would like to be considered. Imagine my surprise when I was offered the position. April vacation had come and gone, Bounty had her pups and I was a full time "pup mom". Then I received a call that Bedford would like me to be a 4th grade teacher at Memorial School.
That was 8 years ago. Each year, I think, surely, there could not be a better school to teach at. The feeling of community, the support from colleagues, rivals what I had at North School. Teaching has become more demanding, at least it feels as if it has. Perhaps I am just older and there are not as many minutes in the day. But it is no less rewarding than it was that first day I walked into my very own classroom. My students have taught me as much as I have taught them.
My colleagues have enriched my life in ways I could not have experienced in any other profession. Being a teacher is a way of life. A way of life that only a teacher can understand fully and appreciate. So on Teacher Appreciation Day, I appreciate my colleagues, I appreciate the profession of teaching and the challenges it brings each day, and the opportunity it has provided me with for all these years. Personally, I will never be rich being a teacher, but my life is richer because I am a teacher.
1 comment:
as an older sister you have always been a wonderful teacher! your students are lucky to have you :-)
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