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to my son’s teachers (and many more)

May 27, 2015

ecard 2

Do you remember all of your teachers? What about their names? Until I started thinking about it today, I thought I did. I can recall specific things about almost all of my teachers through 8th grade. Once I get to high school, it gets a little jumbled.

Mrs. Gentry, my kindergarten teacher was sweet and traditional. I don’t remember her being all that fun, per se, but she was gentle. She got onto me for coloring outside the lines and really didn’t like it when I colored every few faces yellow in our class photo. I mentioned something about the picture needing more lighting effects, so I added them myself.

First and second grades are a little hazy. I’m pretty Mrs. Bonner taught first grade. My memory of her is likened to Miss Nelson (the one who went missing in the children’s book). I had a piano teacher named Sally Small in second grade. She signed her capital S as a treble clef every time.

Third grade was Mrs. Nichols. Sherida Nichols. I remember her full name mostly because her handwriting was neat as a pin. I practiced writing like her every day.

In 4th grade, Mrs. Weseman defended me when I asked a kid to stop harassing me. He told on me for calling him an ass. I called him an elephant, and while I’m not sure where I was going with that, we both got in trouble. I had to face the corner for 10 minutes. I counted the cinderblocks until it was time for recess.

Mrs. Manguno, my fifth grade teacher, was one of the most beautiful ladies I’d ever seen. She had big hair, which she must’ve taken the time to curl every day, and her teeth were perfect – like Chicklets gum. I had to tell her about the red lipstick on her teeth often, and she’d laugh, rub it off, and hug me for my honesty. I started shaving my legs that year. She gave me a speech about being too young, but I felt so grown. It was the first year of real crushes and love notes. Check yes or no.

It’s funny, because I don’t remember things they taught me, if we’re talking about math, science, or language arts. Middle school and high school memories are more like that. I hated math, so anyone who had to teach me numbers was doomed from the start. As lover of all books, my English teachers were almost always my favorite.

As my son is wrapping up his six years at Lake Forest Hills Elementary, I pass his former teachers in the hall and remember the support and joy they’ve given him through the years. First tooth pulled, hundreds of books read, thousands of PAY ATTENTION, BOYs. His PE teacher once said “Do you know how many times per day I say his name, trying to get him to tune in?”  I told him to multiply that times his age, and yes. We’ve been there.

A love for learning comes easily for The Boy, though a love for school was once a struggle. I feel for the teachers who tried to engage him. I’m more thankful for the efforts. We’ve not had a bad teacher yet, and for that, I’m forever grateful. As he goes on to middle school (boo hoo), he may not remember what they taught, but he’ll remember how they taught it.

For all of his teachers: please know this. You are appreciated. You spent more time with him than I did, and he loved every one of you. For all the other teachers: please know this. You are appreciated. Parents yell at you, criticize grades given, and question your methods. The standards to which you are held each day requires more work than dollars paid. Most of us get it, though. You work hard, and you work for our kids.

Here’s to the teachers. Hats off and a glass of bubbly. It’s summer! Cheers!

 

*originally published in the Metro Spirit, Augusta GA on 5/21/15 http://www.themetrospirit.com

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. gill hayes permalink
    June 4, 2015 11:14 pm

    OMG you just made me cry! With my two still in preschool, I can only imagine how it will feel to say goodbye to those teachers after years together in elementary! Miss you!

  2. June 5, 2015 3:09 pm

    Such great words about such a great profession.

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