A Teacher's Influence

I had an incredible gift today. I was able to sit across the table from a former teacher and thank her for changing my life.

In 1963 I began college at a new, very small public teachers' college in Chicago. In many respects it was an extension of high school - everyone lived at home and commuted, everyone knew everyone, we all followed the same set curriculum, we all were destined to be elementary teachers in Chicago public schools. And, by the way, there was about one boy for every hundred girls enrolled.

As part of the set curriculum everyone had to take either Spanish, Chinese or Russian. Having not excelled at my high school Latin, I chose the supposedly "easy" language and hoped to get through the required semesters with "C's". As freshmen we were assigned our schedule and I ended up in Dr. O's Spanish class, an experimental section. Dr. O was piloting a new and unusual curriculum and would be our teacher for all four trimesters. Little did I know that this roll of the scheduling dice would shape my future.

After a few weeks I discovered that I was enjoying Spanish. When I came to the end of the required courses, I took a Spanish elective because I wasn't ready to give it up. I "tried on" several other subject areas as my "area of concentration", but kept coming back to Spanish. Finally, I gave up and signed on in Spanish. Then "stuff" just started happening.

First Dr. O, as department chair, needed some assistance and offered me a part time job working in her office. Later that morphed into a job in the language lab (think putting the right reel to reel tapes on the recorders). Later somehow I ended up as president of the Spanish club and putting on a huge international night at the school and meeting lots of native speakers. Somehow that morphed into working with high school students who came to the university for a city wide Spanish club. Somehow that morphed into being recommended for and accepted at a summer government sponsored institute for future Spanish teachers in Texas (think post-Sputnik emphasis on catching up with those Russians). Somehow that morphed into a summer studying in Mexico. The final undergraduate morphing was being the first student at our college to be assigned to student teach in the (gasp!) suburbs. (At that point, Dr. O effectively handed me over to my next strong female mentor, Mrs. B, who eventually got me into publishing and presenting...but that's another story.)

Along the way, my relationship with Dr. O morphed from scared freshman/teacher to friend. She got to know my family when they attended events at the college. She came to my house with her young daughters one Saturday so that I could teach her daughters how to sew doll clothes. She introduced several of us to Cuban groceries, restaurants and Spanish language movie theaters. I was invited to her home and knew her family.

Then I got busy with teaching, got married, had a family and we rarely saw each other. In the early 80's Dr. O retired and, at her retirement dinner, several of us who were at home with young children made plans with Dr. O to meet monthly for Spanish conversation. So, once again, I was taught by Dr. O. We'd get baby sitters and spend an afternoon talking in Spanish, being gently corrected when necessary, and being sounding boards for each other.

Then I went back to teaching and we lost track of each other again. Last fall I read her husband's obituary and felt terrible that I didn't even have an address so I could send a sympathy card.

Time passed. Out of the blue I got a call from an acquaintance who happened to have Dr. O's address. I wrote her a condolence note and suggested lunch. She called and today we got together.

And I was able to say those exact words, "You know, you changed my life."

Too bad she had to wait until her late 80's to hear those words. I feel very blessed to have been able to say them!