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Lessons from Teachers

Many times when people talk about the teachers they have encountered in their schools, usually the lessons have been of the traditional sort.  A teacher has done or said something inspiring that has changed their lives for the better.  Actually, I have had a teacher show a negative trait that was a positive life lesson to me.  She was my seventh grade teacher.  She was a very large woman—she had to make her own clothes to fit her.  Not only was her physique large, but also her personality.  She was a very aggressive and no-nonsense woman.    “You can’t get away with anything in Miss C class!”  was the comment we heard from previous teachers and older students.  When she hosted detention, she made a sign to put on the clock that read: “Time passes—will you?”
            Being in her class, she made it very clear that she was the boss.  Now, most of the time, she was a knowledgeable and good authority on many subjects.  However, there was one time she was wrong.
            At the time I was in school, there was a man by the name of James Watt and he was Secretary of Energy, of all things.  Miss C insisted on calling him James Watts.  When a test rolled around, she had a question asking, “Who is President Carter’s Secretary of Energy?”  I knew his name was Watt and that is what I wrote.  However,  she marked it wrong.  Now, I wasn’t the only one who wrote his correct name--I found out that more than half the class did the same thing.  I was pretty indignant and I decided to confront her with the truth.  My friend had an article from the newspaper to prove our point. 
Armed with the article, we both went to see Miss C during our lunch hour.  We presented our case, thinking she would be won over by our resourcefulness.  However, we were not suspecting that she would take offense to our “uprising.”  She looked down her nose at the article, huffed under her breath and instructed us to go through everyone’s test and re-grade them.  She then left to go to lunch; she certainly wasn’t going to miss her break, like we were!
As we sat with the pile of tests in front of us, another of our teachers came in.  He noticed that it was unusual for students to be sitting in a classroom during lunchtime.  I remember distinctly him coming in, since I had a schoolgirl crush on him--hey, he was a dead ringer for Nicholas Cage!  Anyway, he asked Miss C what we were doing here.  Her answer was they’re doing an extra credit project, not correcting papers that resulted in her mistake.  That is how we spent our lunch hour, marking everyone’s paper with a check mark and a re-grade of three more percentage points. 
My friend and I were discouraged—here we only wanted to show her that the truth was she had made a mistake and we were only trying to correct it, nothing personal against her teaching methods.  However, that was her reaction and from then on, we interpreted that it was not acceptable to question anything she taught. 
            Looking back, I feel that this message was a shame—even if that’s not what she meant, that’s how it was interpreted.  At that time, I believed in everything that was taught, not because of a teacher’s intelligence, but because it was easier on myself. 
Now, flash forward to high school.  I was in 9th grade Algebra class and had just got back a test.  I had noticed that one question was marked wrong, but the answer was actually correct.  I double-checked my work and sure enough, the teacher had made a mistake.  Oh, boy, here we go again!  I thought to myself.  Do I chance it again and show the teacher her mistake or just keep quiet?  The extra points would change my grade, so I decided to speak with my teacher after class. 
When the bell rang and the class filed out, I went up to the teacher, Mrs. D, at her podium with Algebra book in hand.  Taking a deep breath, I proceeded to gently explain that my answer was correct, but marked wrong.  To my surprise, she looked at the question, looked at the book and with a smile, said simply, “Sorry, my mistake.  You’re right.”  She took her red pen, and changed my grade.  She went so far to announce at the next class if anyone had had their paper mis-graded to see her after class for the correction.  I was stunned.  Here was a teacher who was confronted with her mistake and didn’t take it as an affront to her teaching. 
My attitude changed then.  I decided it was okay to speak with my teachers if a mistake was made and not be brow-beaten over one teacher’s reaction.  My seventh grade teacher’s technique was too domineering. I learned from her that in her class, us students were only there to dutifully absorb information, not to question or share or to be a part of the learning experience.  She wanted respect, but what she got was a fearful and hostile resignation to her authority. 
However, my 9th grade teacher, Mrs. D, showed to her students she was human and humans make mistakes.  She taught me if someone points out a mistake I’ve made, I should owe up to a mistake, correct it and acknowledge that they are right.  I feel that the latter lesson has helped me immensely in my day to day living.

Comments

  1. Hi Diane its Aunty Terry - ( and bernadette typing for her :) )

    Just been looking at your blog :) stories are very good - interesting views on your teachers :).. hows things with yourself and the family.

    thought i would give you my email address, so we can keep in touch more often hope to speak to you soon love all

    bernadette.smith@btinternet.com x x x

    ReplyDelete

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