Long Term Gifts

Yesterday I attended one of the periodic luncheons for retired teachers from my school district and happened to sit next to some wonderful women who had taught my children in elementary school. The first thing out of their mouths was "What are David and Kevin doing?" I was struck once again by how much these women cared and by what an impact they had on my sons.

S. was David's first grade teacher. S. had been an aide in 3rd grade for many years, but this was her first year as teacher...and she had just been informed that she would be teaching 1st grade instead of 3rd a week before school started. Then she met her class: a few non-English speaking kids, a few kids with behavior issues, a few kids with serious LD issues, and the "regular" kids. As a teacher, my heart went out to S. as she certainly had her hands full but, as a mom, I was really nervous about my first child's first grade experience in a new school. Neither S. nor David had an easy year, but somehow S. found time to advocate for David when she discovered how bored he was with the regular curriculum. "Whole language" reading instruction was mandated at the time and she, unbelievably, was not allowed to give David reading material suited to his ability....but she did anyway. Later she advocated for double promotion and arranged for his placement with a terrific 3rd grade teacher. It was gutsy for a first year teacher to take those risks, but she acted on what she knew was right for David and we were thankful.

M. taught both David and Kevin in 4th grade. Eighteen years later, she reminisced yesterday about David eagerly reading some heirloom books of her father's. She told of Kevin, the beginning percussionist, rhythmically tapping on his desk throughout the year and how, rather than force him to stop, she gave him pads of sticky notes to tap on without making noise. She recognized a budding passion way back then and was utterly thrilled to hear that Kevin now is a full-fledged percussionist. M. also encouraged Kevin's writing passion. Her students were to write a very short fictional story. Kevin, however, got really wrapped up in his story about "Elmer and the Elephants" and was not finished on the due date. M. recognized that he really needed to expand this story and let him continue working on it for many more days. Her willingness to bend her rules to fit Kevin's passion was a terrific gift. Did her willingness to let him continue and work towards a goal help him develop the skills he uses now as her practices and practices to reach a musical goal?

It's very easy to credit later teachers with helping our sons on their respective career paths. Of course, the junior high science teacher taught David a tremendous amount about research when she guided him through science fair projects. Of course, the college mentor/professor/employer gave and still gives him immeasurable professional guidance. Of course, the junior and senior high music teachers fostered musical growth and passion in Kevin and David. Of course, the graduate school teacher/mentor polished Kevin as a musician. It's easy to see the connections between their teaching and our sons ultimate careers.

How much mentoring, however, happened in subtle ways way back in elementary school? What's the long term effect of a teacher not yelling at the kid who tapped on his desk? What's the long term effect of knowing that a teacher went to bat for you? How does a teacher encouraging the student to follow a passion even though it doesn't fit her lesson plan influence a student's work ethic and creativity? How many more wonderful but subtle things went on in elementary school classrooms that I don't even know about,yet gave my sons incredible gifts that are playing out now in their chosen careers?

As a teacher myself, I tend to remember all my failures as a teacher and wish I could re-do some aspects of my teaching. I'm sure S. and M. have some of those same feelings, but I hope they and other dedicated elementary school teachers realize the long term effect of so many of the little unglamorous things they do for children.