We can still learn even from not-so-superTeachers

When I was in 6th grade, I had the same teacher for 6th grade my brother had had the previous year.  From the beginning, we knew a little about the teacher, but I didn't let that determine my own personal opinion of her.

I liked her.  I kind of had to.  I had her all day long.  While all my friends switched classes off and on throughout the day, I had the same teacher ALL DAY.  What else was I supposed to do but like her?

That doesn't mean she was the best teacher, though.  I was a little afraid of her, truth be told.  If this teacher did now what she did back in the early 1980s, she'd have been fired so fast, it would have made her head spin.  And she would have deserved it, too.

She was not a nice person when she was grumpy.  When she was in a good mood--she was THE BEST.  When she was in a bad mood--she was THE WORST.  When she was good, she was great.  When she was bad, she was a demon in disguise.

I can't tell you one single thing I learned from my 6th grade teacher as far as math, science, social studies, English, etc. goes.  What I can tell you that I learned for that particular teacher is how NOT to treat students with ADD/ADHD or other learning problems.

There was this boy in my class who just could NOT sit still.  He was constantly drumming his fingers on his legs or on the desk or talking or just plain moving around.  He would randomly stand up for no apparent reason than just to stand up.  He was my friend.  We weren't really close, but I liked him and I talked to him whenever I sat near him and we got along quite well.

His antsy-pantsy movements drove my 6th grade teacher CRAZY, though.  She made him sit in the far right front of the room, directly in front of her desk.  It didn't make a difference.  He still wiggled and squirmed and turned around in his seat.  She'd make him stand up for the whole length of the class.  Whenever she'd turn her back, he'd make funny faces at us.

Yes, I laughed.  Of course I did.  I liked him.  He was definitely more entertaining than my teacher was.

When she couldn't take it anymore, she'd put her hands on him.  She'd grab his legs and turn him forcefully around in his seat so he would be facing the front with his body.  As soon as she'd step away, he'd immediately--it seemed to me to be a knee-jerk reaction--turn his body sideways.  She's step back over to him and turn him again.  He'd turn sideways--again--as soon as she stepped away.  This cycle would go on a few times before she finally swung her arm back as far as it could go and whacked him on the leg--several times.

As a 12-year old 6th grader, I didn't know that what she was doing was "wrong," but I did know that what she was doing made me very uncomfortable.  I always wanted to get up and go over and hug that boy after she'd hit him.  I even thought about intervening in some way.

I never did.  I was too afraid she'd turn her anger on me.  And I sure didn't want to be hit by her.

So what did I learn from my 6th grade teacher???  That students who wiggle and squirm and just can't sit still are people with feelings and that just because someone can't sit still, that doesn't mean that person isn't listening.  Some people just have the sqirmies and that's that.

I have always had trouble sitting still in class, but I found that I could "control" that by taking notes.  If the teacher stopped talking for too long or I finished a written assignment early, then I'd be in trouble.  I'd turn around in my seat and start talking to anyone who would listen.  It doesn't mean I wasn't a good student or that I wasn't learning anything.  It just means that when I was bored, I would find something to do and that something to do was quite often talking.

I also learned from my 6th grade teacher that a teacher should NEVER touch a student in anger--hitting or otherwise.  If a teacher is going to touch a student, it should be as a gesture of tenderness, compassion, understanding--even love.

The best teachers don't let the "rule" of not touching students keep them from putting a hand on a student's shoulder or hand or even hugging a student when a student needs it.  Sometimes it's the best way to get a student's attention.

But hitting a student just because he can't sit still?!

Thank you, Mrs. 6th Grade Teacher, for teaching me that Teachers need to show LOVE to students rather than anger and frustration.  You taught me well.....

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."  - Maya Angelou

Blessed Lessons--Guest: Amanda Coburn

I am the mother of an 11 year-old daughter, an 8-year-old son, and a 5-year-old son. I am not a perfect mom because I am far from being a perfect person, and I’ve lived a very humbling life due to the choices I have made despite all the people who poured “better” into me. But through my short-comings, I have been able to absorb so much that others so willingly give… life lessons.

God has blessed me with lots of great teachers in my life. The longer I thought about whom I should write about, the list of all my influences seemed to grow larger. My mother is the greatest example of human patience I have ever witnessed and my father nourished my ability to ask worthy questions and my grandparents loved me more unconditionally and saw more beauty in me than anyone else is capable of (it is important to learn how to love even when we don’t see the lovability). My excellent extended family has taught me uncountable different lessons for life. I have had some strong, significant, close friends who helped shape me into who I am today.

I have had AMAZING, knowledgeable, caring Sunday-school teachers. Even my husband has taught me a thing or two(-thousand). I’ve participated in Bible studies written by impressive, Godly women alongside women I am proud to call my friends. I have been a student in many different classes and sermons, had the privilege to learn from remarkable teachers and pastors (including the great Rev. Billy Graham, on occasion) for as long as I can remember, whom I try to model my own future after and tuck away the lessons they’ve shared in my heart. I have even had some experiences with people (including myself at times) where the most I could learn is that I don’t want to live my life like they are – which can be a very powerful lesson.

I have learned a lot of very useful lessons from many different sources, but my favorite teachers are the ones whom I just put to bed and sang to sleep, because they have the ability to mirror the things in me I most want to change about myself, as a role model for them, and motivate me to change them… PRONTO!

The innocence of children is overwhelming sometimes. Their pure hearts that allow them to be so trusting, loving and forgiving, is nothing short of desirable, and even Jesus said in Mark, Chapter 10 “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. ¹⁵ Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Well, each of my children has a many lessons to teach me (granted each one changes and sometimes they overlap with each other, but they help bring me closer to God each day.

Taylor (11), has a stubborn, sarcastic, argumentative side, matched only be me (and possibly her daddy). It aggravates me to no end sometimes, and then, I realize I might as well be looking in the mirror, because I am the reason she knows how to do it all so well. If I want her to be less argumentative, I must lead in being less argumentative myself. Also, Taylor has recently reminded me how she values friendship because she is (developmentally – hence the college lessons learned) at a stage in life where friends are “the whole world”. When a friends’ world falls apart, so does your own. Though they can be quite dramatic, young girls can be quite loyal friends, if only so many of us didn’t grow out of that stage, we would have AND be better friends. I am encouraged through Taylor to be a better friend.

Speaking of loyal, we come to Bryant(8). I like to explain Bryant with the story about how Ed, my husband, was napping on the floor in the living room not an hour after having a conversation where he “denied” that he snores (just as a joke, he doesn’t always snore, he knows he does sometimes, but it is a running “joke”), but loyal Bryant took his side and defended his deposition. Well, needless to say, he was disproving his claim, loudly, in plain sight. Taylor and I looked at Bryant and said, “See Bryant!? Do you still say he doesn’t snore?” and Bryant said, “Nope, he doesn’t snore!” All of my kids are loving and loyal, but that is just Bryant’s strongest attribute. I know there are times when I need to be more “blindly” loyal to my family and especially my Lord, and He couldn’t have shown me that better than through Bryant.

Cody(5). He’s excitingly full of energy and life, but he has a love for small, underappreciated things that moves my heart! He has (and still loves to) sit and make “houses” for ants. Picked the smallest flowers, and he’s even taken the time to PET some bumble bees. He doesn’t have a favorite color because he loves all colors, and though he’s a force to be reckoned with in a tiny package, he is the first to be compassionate when someone is sad. His desire to give to others is encouraging and inspiring, and I am so blessed to have such remarkable young teachers.

Typing.....Seriously?!

As I've mentioned before, even before I started school, I knew I was going to grow up to be a teacher.  Before I go any further, you need to understand that high school for me was the late 1980s.  I actually graduated from high school June 1989.  But I digress.

I started band in 7th grade (the first grade we could take it way back then); I played percussion--mostly the bells and xylophone, but I also played most of the drums at some point or another throughout my high school band career.  As I started my Senior year, I decided that I didn't want to be in band any more.  In order to drop band, though, I had to replace it with something; I couldn't just have a free hour.

As I was already a teaching assistant (TA) for my English teacher and I was a TA in the library, I had to take an actual class to replace band.  But I didn't NEED anything else for my curriculum.  Being on a college track, I either had already taken or I was taking at that time all the required college prep classes.  So when I sat down with my counselor, Mrs. Finch, she threw out a couple of ideas at me.  None of which I thought worked for me.

Art?

Home ec?

Typing?

Another science--physics?

When I expressed my complete dislike of each of those options, Mrs. Finch gently shared with me that if I was serious about quitting band, I had to replace it with something.  She asked me which of the choices seemed the least objectionable.  I told her they were all objectionable.  I started going down the list as to why each was so incredibly objectionable:

Art--I'm not artsy AT ALL.  I couldn't take a class I was bound to fail.

Home ec--I'd already learned to sew and cook.  I just didn't need such a class.

Typing--a teacher didn't need to know how to type.  Teachers made copies of everything they needed using the information and supplies provided by the textbook companies and/or the teacher stores where teachers bought a lot of their supplies.  (Pre-internet days, I remind you.)

And science--are you Serious?!  I barely passed all my previous science classes!  Why would I subject myself to another one?!

Mrs. Finch's face lit up by the end of my tirade, though.  She knew which class would work best for me:  Typing.

But what do I need to learn to type for?  Teachers don't need to know how to type.

Oh, but yes, they do!  Don't you realize that the future of teachers is such that more and more teachers are creating their own documents which means that they have to type them up themselves?

I started hearing "Blah, blah, blah," but I agreed that typing was the least objectionable class left on the list of things for me to take instead of band, so I let her fill out the paperwork to get me transferred into Mrs. Battle's typing class.

Blech.

I admit that I went into my typing class with high expectations of not only hating it, but also never using any skills I might learn in the class in my future life as a teacher.

Our typewriters were Olivetti electronic typewriters.  At least these typewriters were newer and more up-to-date than the type on which my mom had learned to type.  I was miserable.

But on that first day, I realized that the guy with whom I was madly in love was in the same class!  I even managed to get a typewriter close to him!   (He quit halfway through the year.  Oh well.)

OK.  So typing wasn't going to be so bad!  To make it even better, one of my best [guy] friends was in the class, too.  Bottom line?  It was a thousand times better than band.  (Not that band is the most awful class.  I was just done with it.)

I remember Mrs. Battle doing an awful lot of sitting at her desk looking out at us every so often as she worked on grading assignments and then getting up every twenty minutes or so to walk around the room to look over our shoulders.  There isn't an awful lot a typing teacher has to do once she has taught the basics of typing beyond being there to help us correct our mistakes and encouraging us to practice, practice, practice.  She knew that she made me nervous when she would walk around the room, but she'd smile, put her hand on my shoulder, and tell me to relax--I had this.  

And I did.  I left Mrs. Battle's class with a fairly high words-per-minute average and it has only gotten better and better in the twenty-plus years since high school.  What is so wonderfully ironic is that Typing really and truly has been an incredible benefit to me in my career as a teacher--as well as in other areas of my life!  I spend a LOT of time on a computer, not to surf the internet or play on Facebook (although I do a lot of both), but to type--to type my journal, to type my blogs, and especially to type my own documents and assignments for my classes that I teach!  As well as proposals and other career and professional documents!

I even became the official typist for many of my brother's friends when we were in college!  They'd bring their rough drafts to me and I'd type them up.  No, I didn't get paid for doing it.  My brother told them I'd do it, so I did.....(You know how it is between siblings!!!!)

I thought typing was going to be the least beneficial class of my high school career.  As both Mrs. Finch and Mrs. Battle seemed to know even way back then, typing has, instead, become the most beneficial class of my high school career for my own career as a teacher.  Thank you, Mrs. Finch and Mrs. Battle for giving me the skills to type--and to type well.  The fact that I can type something like this myself in less than half an hour is truly a tribute to the influence of these two Super Teachers!

Thank you.

Guest Blogger....A One of a Kind Teacher

A one of a kind teacher

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  That Maya Angelou quote came to mind today as I thought about a favorite teacher who passed away last week.  Mr. O. William (Bill) Hanner, aged 73, passed away in Pilot Mountain on September 5.  He was the quintessential teacher, coach, and friend.

At my high school, people often made snide remarks about subjects the coaches taught (like coaching was their only passion, and teaching a little aside they had to perform in order to coach), but Mr. Hanner had a rare combination of passion for teaching and learning as well as athletics.  He appeared to love both equally.

I have a two-inch square picture of him taken from an old photo album from high school days.  In it he’s seated at his classroom desk, a row of history books held up by brick bookends in front of him and a history poster on the board behind.  It reads “World Communism Today” and has the Soviet Union colored in red.  I wish I had sent him a card when the Berlin Wall fell in 1989 and figured out a way to get him a chunk of it.  I know he celebrated.

I study this small picture.  He is wearing a shirt and striped tie, his everyday attire.  His sideburns are low as he always wore them, his black eyeglasses giving him the scholarly look of an academic.  In the heat of making a point about some turning point in history, he would take his pointer finger and push the bridge of those glasses frame higher on his nose.  Often, he held his finger there with eyed squinted to hold a dramatic moment.

Because Mr. Hanner was a gifted storyteller he made history classes engrossing epic narratives.  I remember going home and asking Mama and Daddy if they knew about the Zimmerman Note that Germany attempted to send to Mexico before the United States entered World War I.  I was indignant that Germany had tried to turn our neighbors to the south against us.  That a high school student would go home and discuss history with her parents verifies Mr. Hanner’s talent.

My college World Civilization class was actually easy after having Mr. Hanner’s high school version of the same class.  By today’s standards I’m sure we received an accelerated world history.  We had college-level supplementary books (Voices of the Past: ancient and medieval-early modern times) that gave us the actual words of the people alive during different periods of history.  And, of course, Mr. Hanner made those voices live.

For all the accolades I could give for Mr. Hanner’s teaching, his real asset was being a genuine, caring human being.  Someone mentioned in an online post that Mr. Hanner cared about each person individually.  That is true.  I remember the way he talked to Hal and Jimmy and Jane and Wally, all of us, as if we were the best, the reason he came to work each morning.  I believe we were.

Mr. Hanner, the bachelor, married our beloved Rebecca Haley, the art teacher.  It was a match made out in the middle of the nowhere, a high school built “down in the hollow” as Mama always said, and a match made in heaven, given the love and loyalty that couple gave each other.  When she passed away prematurely, Mr. Hanner lost a part of himself.

I know there are times his voice is in my head as I answer a student’s question about some piece of information from history.  Sometimes if the moment is right, I tell a story out of history to preface the reading of an article, and the room will become still, the students listening as if wanting to hear.  I know that a master storyteller told me stories like that a long time ago, and I hope that in these past decades my students have passed it forward. 

I do remember things Mr. Hanner said, some things he did, but more than anything I remember the way he made me feel:  important to him.  I’m thankful for his place in history.  We are all the better for his having been here.

Arlene Neal

 

Espanol

In college, I had this amazing Spanish professor who believed that I would make a great Spanish teacher.  He knew that I was studying to be an English teacher; I have no idea what gave him the idea that I would make a good Spanish teacher.  I was honored, at least, that he had that kind of faith in me.

What made his encouragement so strange--for me--was that I only knew a few phrases in Spanish and certainly couldn't speak conversational Spanish.  What was even worse was that I would make careless mistakes on my tests.  I thought Spanish was easy--and fun, but in spite of his desire for me to add Spanish Education to my major, I just wasn't feeling it.

This professor, though, was the first one I'd ever had who I had a relationship with beyond the college classroom.  (Don't get any ideas; it wasn't THAT kind of relationship!!!)  We would stick around after class, just chatting about Spanish, teaching, education, life, and whatever else came to mind.  He would take me back to his office after almost every class and go over the test very carefully with me.  I would tell him that I didn't know why I got such-and-such wrong because I knew the answer--and I would tell him the answer--and he would say that he knew that I knew the answer; he couldn't understand why I had missed such-and-such question!

Even though I can't remember that professor's name right now, he made a huge impact on my life and especially on my teaching career because he believed in me.  He confronted me face-to-face about the mistakes I made in class.  He wouldn't let me get away with my mistakes; in other words, he wouldn't GIVE me a higher grade because he knew I knew the answer.  But he did make sure that I understood that he knew that I knew and he simply wanted me to reach my full potential.

I respected that--and him--so very much.  It didn't make me change my mind about majoring in Spanish Education, but at least I knew that someone believed in me!  Once I got to the conversational Spanish class (yes, I took it with him), I realized my full limitations regarding Spanish and I completely gave up even the THOUGHT of majoring in Spanish!

The irony, though, is that before I graduated from college, I got a job at a local Christian school teaching high school Spanish 1 and 2!!!!  My boss and my students knew that I was still in college and that my major was NOT Spanish, but they were impressed with the number of Spanish classes I had taken, so I got the job!

To make things even more interesting, several years later, I got another teaching job at a different Christian school teaching high school English--9th through 12th grade--and Spanish 1 and 2!!!!  I taught there for two whole years!!!  I know I did my students an injustice--they never learned to speak conversational Spanish, but they sure could conjugate Spanish verbs!--but I did the best I could.

You never know what is going to happen in your future, so we should always be prepared for the unexpected.  While I had no intention of doing anything with Spanish beyond the classes I had to take in college, because that professor believed in me, I knew I could do anything--even teaching Spanish!!!!

My Aunt Zazie teaches me about all things OLD

Video:  "RoseMarie"

Like many young people, when I was growing up, I didn't like to hear my older family members, teachers, etc. tell me about "the good old days" when things were so much better--or "different" if you looked at those days through my perspective.  So when my Aunt Zazie (yes, that's what I called her--no idea why) came to visit carrying these VHS videos that were not only in black and white but the main characters were SINGING through the whole movie, I whined and tried to make excuses not to watch them with her.

But she wore me down and before I knew it, I was laughing and singing along.  Yes, I fell in love with Jeannette McDonald and Nelson Eddy movies.  But more than that, I fell in love with things that were "old"--or at least much older than me!

Through watching these old movies with my Aunt Zazie, I came to understand that just because something is old to me doesn't mean that thing is no longer pertinent or valuable.  Sometimes (a vast majority of the time, truth be told) Old is much better than the new!

As a writing and literature teacher, I LOVE the old classics--stories and movies that have been around for a VERY long time.  I love teaching literature that is hundreds, even thousands of years old.  It is from the old that we often see themes and other insights within the new. 

J.K. Rowling never would have been able to write the amazing Harry Potter series if it hadn't been for other authors who had come before her and paved the way for an audience to fall in love with such a magical story.  We see themes and similarities throughout the series that can be found not only in mythology and religion, but also within great classics such as The Lord of the Rings!

How does one love the new without knowing, loving, and respecting the old?!

So while I groaned and complained and cried and whined, I am so thankful for those hours I spent watching Jeannette McDonald and Nelson Eddy movies with my Aunt Zazie.  Now that I am the "old[er]" one attempting to teach the young[er] ones, I begin to understand and appreciate more fully the value of my aunt's influence on my life and in my education.

And I didn't even mention the fact that just my naming her Aunt "Zazie" and her allowing me to call her that helped encourage my creativity!!!!!

Super Baba and Super Grandpa Keefer

I do so hope that a large number of us can say with pride that our grandparents were (are/have been) some of the greatest teachers in our lives.  I know mine were.  I miss my grandparents very much, but their influence continues in my life every single day.  My parents say I'm more like my paternal grandmother, but I can honestly say that my maternal grandparents were my greatest influence as teachers.  (No offense Grandma and Grandpa Kinsey!)

I got my love of all things grammar from my Baba.  (I don't know where that name came from, but I am told that it is Polish, "Babsha" (sp?), for "Grandma."  I've always called her that.)  Every time I correct your grammar, it is the voice of my Baba I am hearing in my head telling me that something is not right about that sentence!  When I lived in another state, I used to write letters to my Baba every so often.  When I'd call to talk to her on the phone (pre-cellphone days, mind you), one of the first things she'd tell me was, "I corrected your letter for you.  Do you want me to send it back to you?" 

And we'd share a good laugh.  She said it in love and I received it as such.  She made me better at so many things because she wanted me to be the best I could be at what I love!  And I love her so much for it!

I also learned to cook from my Baba.  She was an AMAZING Jewish cook!  Don't get me wrong, now.  I'm a picky eater so I didn't like everything she made, but it was very rare that she made something and I didn't love it!  Whenever I made something from scratch now and it turns out delicious, I know that it is because of watching and learning from my Baba.  She would follow recipes, but only up to a point.  She loved taking the "teaspoon of" something and just grabbing any old spoon to use!  She'd add a dash of this, a pinch of that, and a handful of those and somehow or another, whatever she was making always turned out amazing!  Every once in a while, I succeed in making something that comes close to her delicious quality.

My Grandpa taught me about research and arguing!  There was this one Sunday at church when the preacher said something about Christ going down to hell during the three days He was in the tomb to retrieve "the keys" from Satan.  I had never heard that before, so that afternoon after Sunday dinner, I got out every Bible translation and Bible study book that we had in the house and started digging.  The preacher hadn't given me any information to go on beyond the previous, so I was essentially starting cold.  I had no idea where to look for such a thing beyond the New Testament since that's where the stories of Jesus are. 

It did not take long for my Grandpa Keefer to notice the mess I had in front of me or the frustration I was obviously feeling at not being able to get anywhere in my research.  He came over and sat down beside me on the couch and began looking with me, all the while asking me questions.  One question led to another question which led to another question which led me to certain passages which ultimately (after lots of digging and searching) led me to what I was looking for! 

It was a wonderful research experience.  One that I have never forgotten, but more importantly, one that continues to affect my life in that even thirty+ years later, I still LOVE to do research!  I especially love to do research WITH someone else--whether it's for something I am researching or the person I am working with.  I absolutely love it.  Researching is a wonderful way of having my Grandpa Keefer here with me all the time.

My Grandpa also loved playing the Devil's Advocate with me.  He would get me so riled up, I could feel my blood boil!  One time, I even got upset enough that I went into the bathroom and tore the full-length mirror off the back of the bathroom door!  As I grew older, though, I realized what he was doing and I actually enjoyed the arguments with my Grandpa for the pure sake of the argument.  Grandpa Keefer helped me think logically, critically, as well as all sides of an issue before making a spot judgment. 

Isn't that a powerful tool that we ALL need???

My grandparents, most importantly, taught me about the power of love and commitment.  No matter how long they may have been away from each other (even if Grandpa was just outside working in the garage) EVERY time they came together, they shared a kiss.  Every time one would leave the house--for any reason--they would share a kiss.  They were married for something like 55 years.  Sure, they fought like any married couple does.  I can still hear the sound of my Baba's voice whenever we take a drive up the mountain, "Dayle.  Dayle!  Dayle!!!!  You're too close, Dayle!!!!  Dayle!!!!!"  (I always try to drive on the inside lane now.) 

My Grandparents especially loved their family.  Together, they had six kids who each have spouses and almost every one has children, so they had a large number of grandchildren.  We all knew we were loved.

But I always knew that I was always their favorite.....!!!!!

My first and best teachers....my Mom and Dad

All I have ever wanted to do in my life is be a teacher.  Before I ever stepped foot into a classroom, I knew that I would grow up to be a teacher.  I played "School" in the family bathroom--the toilet was the teacher's desk; the toilet paper created handouts for my students; the empty area of the bathroom was where my students sat; each student had a name and assigned seating; the bathtub was the Principal's office--I would play in there for HOURS--or at least until my brother would almost break down the door to let me know that it was his turn to use the bathroom.

I don't think he played School in there, though.

From the beginning, my parents have been my best and favorite teachers.  I know I got my joy and love of learning from them and their example.

My parents were my Sunday School teachers, Children's Church teachers, as well as my teachers and encouragers at home.

My dad is the type of guy one might call a wallflower.  He tends towards shyness and standing on the sidelines.  He really has to work hard to put himself out there and be more involved in anything social.  But leaning more towards an introvert has never kept him from trying new things and being creative in any of his teaching positions.  (As someone who is honestly scared to speak in public, my dad has been an inspiration in that area, as well!)

I remember this one year during vacation Bible School when we were studying David and Goliath.  My dad who stands at 5'3" tall was pitted against another guy who is well over six feet tall.  It really was like watching a true-life David and Goliath!  They came in at the beginning of each night of VBS acting as if they were in a wrestling/boxing--jumping around; wearing boxing gloves, silky shorts, and robes; and yelling at each other the way we always hear wrestlers do on those wrestling shows.  It was hilarious!

There was my dad who was more an introvert than anyone else in my family putting himself out there creatively to teach a bunch of kids, including me, the story of David and Goliath.  Ever since, that has been one of my favorite Bible stories; I can't think of the David and Goliath story without thinking about that week at VBS with my dad!

My mom also has had a powerful influence on my education not only because she used to read to me and helped instill the love of reading in me, but also because she, too, was always very creative in her methodology of teaching my siblings and I new things.

My mom loves to sing, so we learned a lot of memory verses through songs.  To this day, I can quote (yes, I have to sing them) quite a few Bible verses because of my mom always singing to us.  (Her songs also helped me learn to spell!)  My favorites were the songs with motions!  To this day, I can't sing certain songs without doing the motions!  I don't have the kind of voice that will ever win any awards or even a voice that others willingly want to listen to, but that doesn't keep me from singing at the top of my lungs!  I love to sing and I always think of my wonderful mother who helped give me a love of singing.

One teachable moment I remember vividly from my parents happened when I was probably just a young tween--somewhere between 10 and 12.  Mom and Dad were teaching the youth at church.  They showed us a film about a young woman who was was the ugliest woman in her village.  No one wanted her.  Even her parents were ashamed of her.  One day, this beautiful man comes to the village and offers a very large price to the parents for the hand in marriage of this ugly young woman.  The parents and everyone else in the village laughed at and mocked the man, but he was insistent that she was the woman he wanted to marry.  So he marries her and they go away for some time.  When they return, he helps her out of the boat and she slowly turns around so her parents and the people in the village can see her (and the camera) and she's BEAUTIFUL.  She'd been beautiful all along; she just needed someone to love her to bring her beauty to the surface.

I have never forgotten that story or that lesson.  Even today, more than thirty years later, I think about that video and the lesson we learned as a result of it.  I wish I could find a copy of that video.  None of us can remember the title after all these years, but none of us have ever forgotten the story.

I am so very thankful that my very first Superhero teachers were my parents.  They instilled a love of learning in me as well as a love for all things Education.  I am the teacher I am today--and will continue to become--because of their awesome creative educational influence in my life.  Is it any wonder that my brother, my sister, and I are all three involved in education in some way?!

Thanks, Mom and Dad.  More than I can say, Thank You.