Did you have a favorite or least favorite teacher? Why?

I'm back- I was traveling on Friday, to visit my son and daughter-in-law in Texas. We had to change planes in Detroit- I have never seen an airport terminal as long as that one! We came in at Gate A72 and had to go to gate A43 for our connecting plane. Thank goodness for moving walkways (or, as Ken put it, flat escalators)- we rode FOUR of them on our way down to the gate. Ken says we walked/rode at least a quarter of a mile. The flight from Pgh to Detroit was awful- the plane was packed and small and I hate flying and I have claustrophobia....the flight to Detroit was much better because the plane was only half full and I had the two seats to myself. And I was by myself because the flight attendant very apologetically moved me from the exit seating row because of my ... size. They were very nice about it, though, and put me in Economy Comfort. Ken could have moved up with me but he knew I would appreciate the comfort of having the two seats to myself. He's the best!
Now, for today's writing:


Did you have a favorite or least favorite teacher? Why?


I had a lot of “least favorite” teachers-  the ones who stick in my mind are my first grade teacher, third grade teacher and then one teacher in high school who taught history. Their teaching methods had a lot in common- they either yelled all the time or they mocked students, including me. I was too young in elementary school to think through rationalities about those teachers and their behaviors; to me they were simply mean and I was afraid of them. The third grade teacher was actually a very good teacher and 40-something years later I still remember her drilling us through the times tables. But she was a yeller and she didn’t hesitate to yell your name and shame you in front of your classmates. 


By the time I was  junior in high school I had acquired reasoning skills and the ability to think things through and look for answers or rationale. My history teacher was very harsh and would say really nasty things out loud in class- but only if she felt you were being lazy or not “working to your potential.” I do not understand why people believe that public mockery is the best way to encourage better performance (and I continue to see this in the working world as well), when a private word that is positive will most often produce the desired results. I must have been a lazy student in her eyes because she picked on me a LOT. Even when I did something correctly or went the extra mile on an assignment, she would crush me by saying something like “you should have been doing this all along,” or “sure, you did it this time but what assurance do I have that you will do this on all future assignments?”


Reflecting on this as an adult, I have to wonder if the screaming teachers were frustrated or tired or burned out. My first and third grade teachers were both gray-haired and probably nearing retirement. My 55-year old self has only my childhood memories of gray hair and wrinkles, and so I have always thought of them as older/old women. My adult self can give them the benefit of the doubt, now that I have lived to this ripe age and experienced frustration and the fatigue of being in my fifties. And because I have only childish memories, I cannot know for sure why they were screamers.


My high school history teacher is another matter. I was 16 and my memories are sharper, perhaps because of the emotions attached to them. I have never liked being mocked (who does?) and I take things personally, often too personally. I can be devastated by harsh words, even today, although I have gotten better at hiding it. My teacher was a nun in the 1970s, when so many nuns were leaving their orders and venturing out into the world. My teacher was around 40 and for those nuns, I think it was really difficult to decide what to do. Many of the younger nuns had only recently left “the world” and could return to it more easily. Nuns in their forties in the 1970s entered convents in the 1950s, before the upheaval of Vatican II. Their path to sisterhood was very structured and in some cases even child-like, in that the nuns were seen and treated like children with their superiors telling them what to do, how to dress, how to make their bed, how to pray and how to live. Like military training, that had to be very difficult conditioning to break. This is just speculation, but I wonder now if my history teacher felt trapped in a position because she no longer had the ability to make her own choices or lacked the confidence to take her own steps. Or maybe she was just a mean, miserable person who used negative reinforcement because that was how she was taught. Teachers like her taught me not just history or French or chemistry; they taught me the value of positive reinforcement, especially for impressionable children and teenagers. 


Ironically, my favorite teacher was also a nun. She was about the same age as the history teacher but she was a much more positive and open person. She was my AP biology teacher and when time permitted, she often allowed us to question her about what it was like to become a nun and live as a nun. She was frank and honest and we loved her for it. We could tell her anything about our lives and she would offer encouragement and hope. She told us just before spring break that she was leaving the convent but would be returning to us as a lay teacher. That took courage, because I’m certain some of the less loving sisters on the faculty would be as harsh with her as they were with us, and indeed this was so. I only learned that years later during a high school reunion. She took those harsh criticisms and rose above them, and turned them to positive. She was truly a great teacher, because she gave us life skills as well as AP biology, and I loved her dearly.