Readers answer the question, “who was your favorite teacher and why?”
It is fun to read the responses.
People write about teachers who were strict and demanding; they write about teachers who were passionate about their subject; they write about teachers who were inspiring; they write about teachers who were fun and pulled pranks; they write about their physics teacher, their German teacher, their music teacher.
I couldn’t find anyone who wrote about the teacher who raised their test scores.
Diane Ravitch's blog 
I couldn’t find anyone who wrote about software, a DVD, a MOOC, or an iPad.
Maybe their internet was down…(:
How about listing favorites here? Our models? Favorite teacher? Dozens.
Favorite and best? Miss Jackson. 1963. 6th grade science & homeroom. 13 field trips (all with in-depth reports to write – authentic assessment), one week at camp (they still go today), public speaking,, ecology before there was ecology, studied air pollution on roof of health dept., writing, writing, writing…
School the Way it Oughta Be!
My favorite teacher in elementary school: Mrs. Rose, who helped me become part of the class and make new friends when my family moved to a new neighborhood. In high school, Mrs. Ruby Ratliff, about whom I wrote a chapter in my last book; she loved poetry, she was able to get us excited about literature, and she marked our homework with a red pencil. We worked hard to please her. My favorite teacher in college: Mr. Maris, who taught literature, from whom I learned to read and think as I had never done before. My favorite teacher in graduate school: Lawrence Cremin, because he made me internalize his work ethic, always striving to be better and better at research and writing and carrying books with me wherever I went, never satisfied that what I did was good enough to satisfy his high standards. I never took any standardized tests, other than the SAT and the Miller Analogies Test for entrance to TC.
I just posted my comments. And you’re so right about the test scores. My memorable teachers encouraged me to be me, to read what interested me and to feel confident about who I was.
Absolutely true..
I still remember some educators from high school–my Spanish IV teacher, my German teacher, my football and basketball coaches.
And from undergrad and grad school, I remember many of my professors with one who I still feel that I am his intellectual progeny and another who was demanding enough to prepare me to research properly and write for an audience of my peers.
Good teachers not only instruct but they also imbue their students with who they are.
Priceless.
Wow, made me cry so early in the morning on Sunday. Did my heart good to know that one needs to be a REAL MENSCH to be an educator, because we are teaching children. We have not lost our direction, we just need to pick up the pebbles, per Grimm’s Hänsel & Gretel, and find our way home. We can fight like hell for children, now we need to fight like HELL for the teaching profession and the children.
I have always been proud to be a teacher, because it mattered!
To my high school German teacher, I attribute my lifelong interest in language and linguistics, which became my profession.
From my high school band director, I gained some much-needed discipline and the importance of experiencing esprit de corps at a period where that made a huge positive difference.
A certain high school English teacher got me out of my introverted shell by encouraging me to become involved in public speaking.
I was, frankly, an unserious, unmotivated, mediocre student at best in high school. I spite of that, these teachers and a few others others somehow managed to equip me with the foundation I needed to flourish a few years later when I matured and became a very serious and excellent college student. A bubble test didn’t do that; I never even took the SAT.
When I was a green teacher, I used to become a little frustrated when I’d hear how one of my “slacker” students became an academic powerhouse in college. Now I understand that my job is often to plant seeds that may not germinate for awhile.
Now I understand that my job is often to plant seeds that may not germinate for awhile.
Such a good observation.
Dr. Marie Wirsing, University of Colorado Denver School of Education, teaching Philosophy of Education, predicted this accountability and homogenous oppression nearly twenty years ago when I was in graduate school. Her class was life-changing and life-giving now that we are living her prediction. The late Dr. Wirsing said HMO’s expect arms to heal in the same amount of time, the grasses on the prairie where she rode her horse were slowly becoming all the same and teacher accountability would demand all teachers become the same regardless of their teaching philosophy. What an amazing woman. I am sure others remember her as fondly as I do.
I certainly do and I took two classes from her around 1987-1988.
My favorite teacher gave tests all the time, taped my mouth shut, told me she was my savior, and quit after two years.
Ah, those lost, golden days of youth…
I love a little dark humor every now and again…lol…
She also demonstrated bravery and steel ba**s by eating buzzing bees. A skill that would serve her well when dodging Investigations into her actions in DC. Never, Never, Never any consequences for her actions. Her former students still feel the Duct Tape on their faces, as she preaches about StudentsFirst. Teflon protects?
“. . . and quit after two years.”
Took her down did ya!!!
@micheal fiorillo: Be Rheesonable now!
Alas, she has not yet been thrown in prison. . .
Linda Sifontes, my eighth grade teacher and first African American teacher I had (other than my PE teacher).
She was so poised and collected; she had a wonderful vocabulary; she was proud of our successes and held us accountable for our actions. She taught the top groups and the bottom, and I liked watching how she interacted with all of us personably, realistically and respectfully. She commanded respect and she got mine for sure.
I always knew black people in my home town were probably justified in being annoyed by white folks–but my teacher was as elegant and scholarly a lady as there was and she treated us all the same.
The lady you describe could have been, in essence, my mother.
It is a shame that we often perceive others on their exterior rather than not.
I hope more folks like you procreate and teach their children the same attitude.
Brutus, I only have had one son (3 that I am raising), but I try to model that respect to all 450 of the students I see each week.
The biggest compliment I have ever gotten was when a black child in an all black special Ed class I taught music to in Kansas City told his teacher that I was fair. I loved that. I worked hard for that. And actually, it’s not so hard if you were treated fairly as a child, and I was.
I hope you were too.
Btw, did Michele Rhee really use duct tape? Or was it masking tape?
I just reread part of her book to find out but never found that story and got tired of looking.
I think we old time public school supporters must feel like the Native Americans did when Europeans first came to North America. That is the analogy I plan to examine next.
Joanna,
That’s why it’s so revealing that TFA-types going into gentrifying communities – a frequent locus of charter expansion in NYC – are always called “pioneers.”
It’s true, they’re the pioneers, and local residents and the career public school teachers who serve them are the Indians.
Rhee said it was masking tape. (You can scroll down here to listed to the audio of her speech describing this: http://voices.washingtonpost.com/dcschools/2010/08/michelle_rhee_first-year_teach.html )
Many have questioned how masking tape, which does not typically have a very strong adhesive, could have resulted in the outcome Rhee described, so some think it might have really been duct tape, “The skin is coming off their lips and they’re bleeding. Thirty-five kids were crying.”
Ya know my dad is an avid bird watcher. Like crazy–travels to see birds and keeps a life list and even had to find a new wife who also bird watches.
He says in third grade his class did a parent night presentation on birds and he was a yellow warbler in it. And that is how he came to love birds!
A third grade teacher. 62 years ago.
Mr. Schimezzi, Fairview Elementary School, who was FASCINATED by so very, very much and who shared his enthusiasms with us so exuberantly and made us feel like little adults who were part of this great conversation everyone was having about what it all meant. He would be drummed out of teaching, these days, because he often lectured to 5th graders. Silly us, we thought that that meant that he took us seriously!!! (Guess what? He did.) He was awesome and we loved him and wanted to be like him.
Mr. Hicks Lane, English Teacher, University High School, who said, OMG, if you can write like that, then you will love this and this and this and this. Thanks, Mr. Hicks, for the Browning! Will you ever know how much that meant to me? : )
Mr. Luckinbill, Science Teacher, University High School. Who would have thought that wave motion could be THAT interesting and fun!!!
Dr. Donald Gray, English Professor, Indiana University, a deeply, deeply learned person who became a model, for me, of what being a learned person was all about. Always questioning, making connections, probing, pushing us to do that.
Alvin H. Rosefeld, Professor of Jewish Studies and English, Indiana University, who taught me more about reading by talking aloud about what he was thinking as he was reading than did any teacher before or since.
So many, many more. Too many to recount. Thank you, all, all you amazing teachers. What a varied crew you were. Thank you for letting me and my classmates in on your enthusiasms.
Thank you for letting us in on, and into, your odd, unique enthusiasms–stuff that wouldn’t be found in anyone’s state standards or on any standardized test. You were MOSTLY, for us, models of learners, showing us what we might be.
Lovely!
Mr. Bob Jensen was my 8th grade U.S. History teacher. I had always found history to be excruciatingly boring until Mr. Jensen, who was so passionate about it. Because of his passion, I discovered a love for a subject that I never expected and I became a state-wide winner in a social studies competition my senior year in high school.
Fast forward 10 years. I had just graduated with my history teaching degree and saw Mr. Jensen and told him that he was my inspiration. When I finally got a job, my sister (who then had Mr. Jensen for history) told him about it. He loved eagles and had pictures of them all over his walls. He took one down, inscribed it to me, and gave to my sister to give to me. It is always the first thing I put up in my classroom every year.
Fast forward another 10 years. Mr. Jensen was retiring. Guess who was hired to take his place? When I came in for the interview, Mr. Jensen leaped from his seat and gave me a big hug. I just hope that I will be a Mr. Jensen to just one of my students. That is my goal.
Great story
Did anybody in Florida know Willis DeKalb Veal? He was eventually head of the education department at FSU (Talahassee?). Unfortunately, when I finally Googled him, I was a couple of years too late.
When he taught me 8th grade history and English, he was a first year teacher (about to be not invited back next year). I believe he took the job at Everitt Jr High in Bay County, FL, because the school was being integrated. It was ugly, and he stood up to Klan members right in the school administration.
It’s funny, I remember starting out being sure Bobby Kennedy would make sure everybody stayed safe, and civil disobedience henceforth would not be needed, because the law was on our side. I realize now Mr. Veal was using history itself to anchor a cogent analysis of the historic moment we were in. No, the struggle for justice was far from over, and that famous arc toward it is very long indeed. He taught us not to let go of it. His habits of mind will never leave me.
Mrs. Gerstner. Grade 6 PS 101. Brooklyn, NY. 1964. On Friday afternoons, she would turn off the lights around 2:30 and read poetry. On the day she read The Tell Tale Heart, I was hooked forever on poetry and all types of literature. I do something similar in my class and my kids can’t wait. Mrs. Gerstner also returned all the Beatles magazines she confiscated during the year!
Ms. Chibnik – kindergartren
Mrs. Spillane – first grade
Mrs. Halpert – fourth grade
Mr. Georgi – fifth and sixth grade
Mr. Smiley – seventh grade (essay writing)
Mr. Seely – ninth grade (essay writing and greek mythology)
Mrs. Walker – twelfth grade (creative writing)
Miss Carlson, Miss Kurpiewski (art) – tenth and eleventh grade
Mrs. Mordoff – elementary school chorus and violin
Ms. Harmelin – elementary school art
Mr. Hudon – elementary school physical education
Mr. Wiggins – (private teacher) classical piano
My Mother- read to me, signed me up for “Book of the Month Club” . . .
Miss Burns, my third grade teacher at Logan School (now McKenzie School) in Wilmette, Illinois. She was so nice, and every child in her class loved her. (So many decades later, I can recognize the power of simply being nice.)
Mrs. Kiernan, my 6th grade teacher at Harper School. I was the new kid, and she made me feel welcome. She complimented my writing and let me write lyrics to a song that the whole 6th grade sang at a concert.
Mr. Gregory at New Trier High School in Winnetka, Illinois. He read A Child’s Christmas in Wales out loud to a rapt class and let us put on a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the middle of the Civil Right’s Movement he made us think about issues of social justice and inequality.
Robert Byars at the University of Illinois. As the Vietnam War raged, his classes challenged, encouraged, engaged, and sent us out into the world prepared to fight for what we thought was right. Truly, these teachers changed my life. I am eternally grateful to each of them.
Thank you for your very kind comments. I am grateful, too, to you and all the students who taught me so much in those difficult times.
I’ve been fortunate to have had many wonderful teachers, but this is in honor of the teacher who had the most enduring impact on my life:
To the late, great Walter Buchmann, the most brilliant and inspiring teacher I have ever known.
Walt was a founding member of the National Great Teachers Movement: http://www.ngtm.net/pdf/HNGTM001.pdf
“I always thought I’d see you again.”
I talk about heroes with my students: Joseph Campbell, Dr. Cornell West, and Jimmy Bacca. My Art II class has just finished watching the Matrix, and we are drawing connections to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave and the symbolism behind the hero’s journey. All of these discussions will filter down into their creation of a self – portrait that is reflective of our discussions. Ten years ago, after graduate school from Rhode Island School of Design, I assigned self –portraits rendered in pencil from staring at a mirror and studying proportion. After 15 years of teaching in the urban school system, I have a new hero and mentor: Eric DeMeulenaere.
Before meeting Eric, I remained in a “comfortable” place at Claremont Academy for eight years. I worked on leadership teams, signed kids up for the right art competitions, and attended professional development conferences. I was numb to the system’s apathy and ability to silence the mavericks of our profession. I was not familiar with the terms urgency, trust, and love when talking about students. I was liked by my students, but could see there was something deeply lacking in my practice.
The first time I met Eric DeMeulenaere, I was invited to his home for dinner to meet his wife and two children. He had joined several teachers together from Claremont Academy in an effort to form a “Critical Inquiry Group.” I was immediately struck by the intimacy and kindess of this gesture. At that moment, Claremont had just appointed its sixth principal in 14 years. Our students were losing interest and were trapped in a haze of mediocre teaching efforts. Our teachers were a mixed bag of waiting to retire or waiting to hear back from the union. Our scores, graduation rate, and toxic culture revealed this truth. I had yet to hear any of our school administrators talk about urgency, mastery, trust, and culture. For the next two years, Eric led this small group to make a systematic and pervasive change in the school, from the students’ transformative experience. For the first time, I had hope.
I read, wrote, discussed, and evaluated my teaching with an extremely close lens during these two years. He asked us to take immense risks with our teaching and our students. My relationships with my students and the neighborhood drastically changed. I was trusted and for once I cherished this relationship with more delicacy than I had ever imagined.
As our “Critical Inquiry Group” came to an end, Eric suggested a more radical approach to invigorating our course offerings; three of us would design a sociology class to be taught to seniors called “Roots and Routes.” It was the melding of our three areas of expertise: art, literature, and sociology. In class, Eric was demanding, provocative, organized, intense, modest, and intelligent. He systematically addressed their multiple layers oppression and doubt. He introduced the students to bell hooks, Paulo Freire, and Foucault. He brought in professors from Clark University and the University of Chicago. He organized critiques from photography professors for our collaboration with Clark University undergraduate students. All of his resources were availed to these high school students; computer labs, gallery spaces, college professors, technology, and the entire staff of the education department. He planned and orchestrated extraordinary lessons that included much of what our students had been desperately missing: the power of their voice. But in all of his planning and execution, his message was clear; all of this and more was deserving of every student at that school. And he continues to advocate and support these students on levels that most people in his professional career will never be privy to.
Eric’s presence in the classroom is transformative. Simply stated, he puts the needs of his students above himself, sacrificing his own time for their growth and well-being. He believes in his students and they are never in doubt of his support. He refuses to buy into the pervasive ideology that blames kid for their shortcomings. He inspires them to move beyond their circumstances systematically by exposing them to the inadequacies of our social system and arming them with the knowledge and confidence to become agents of change.
Eric is my mentor, role model, and dear friend. When I speak about my hero, I use his name often and with conviction