By Laurie Snider
Notes From The Nest
The hours of daylight are beginning to ebb, families are squeezing in one final excursion to the beach or cottage and the malls are packed with harried parents, children in tow, selecting new outfits, pencils, paper, backpacks and thermoses. This can mean only one thing: the time for ‘back to school’ is nigh.
Our children are grown and busy pursuing their own lives and dreams; regardless, I’m ever cognizant of the rituals and rhythms of life going on around me. Soon bright, yellow school buses will be rumbling down our street, front ends of grocery store shelves will be loaded with lunchbag snack items and the two effervescent youngsters who live next door will tell me how excited they are to begin school.
As a child, I always found this a thrilling time of year. I was filled with anticipation about which friends I‘d have classes with, the abundance of sports, clubs and new opportunities for socializing I would partake in and a piqued curiosity about who my new teachers would be.
As of 2015, Statistics Canada recorded there were a total of 732,800 teachers in Canada. Like every other profession, some are excellent and some less so. Most of us, have a tale or two to tell of a teacher that wasn’t quite up to par, for one reason or another.
My Grade 10 Physics teacher, Mr. M, was an example. Mr. M, well into his 60s, had evidently lost his passion for teaching. He was now merely putting in days before retirement. He’d entirely lost his patience with the hooligans in class, who enjoyed their role as tormentors. Instead of challenging them, he became apathetic. We spent the entire semester watching movies of historic Second World War battles. He didn’t give us a single test and at semester’s end, exempt the entire class from our exam. The following year in physics, I scored a less-than-impressive 25 per cent! Thankfully, in my chosen profession of nursing, I wasn’t required to measure wind velocity, the speed of sound or to set up a simple circuit.
Of course, at the other end of the spectrum, I had some teachers that were above and beyond. Miss J, was one of those. She was a high school math teacher. With a fervor and zeal I didn’t know I possessed for arithmetic, I eagerly looked forward to class. Once class began, she would rather dramatically pull up a screen covering the blackboard, revealing an intricately drawn diagram. There were arrows and angles and numbered degrees and magically, by the end of her explanation, I‘d walk out of class understanding the entire process. To this day, I credit her with my passable understanding of this complicated subject. By no means am I a Rhodes Scholar but I can convert fahrenheit into celsius, calculate percentages, in my head and I’m a reasonable bookkeeper.
As parents, we have a keen, hardwired radar that hones into how our children are faring. When ours were in early, elementary school, French immersion was being introduced into our local school system. We were guided to enrol them and for two of our three children, this proved to be a positive decision. However, despite being told that “their little brains are like sponges, soaking this all in,” it became apparent, within a year, that one of our children wasn’t thriving. We made the decision to move him to a different school. Fortunately, this is when our paths crossed with Mrs. C.
Of all of the educators I’ve ever known, Mrs. C was the absolute best. I spent time in her classroom, as a volunteer and had the great pleasure of watching her work. Her methods were innovative, fun and creative. Her delivery and demeanour was calm and kind with a warmth and wit that drew the children to her. There was barely ever a ripple of disruption or discontent. Her students valued and respected her. The remarkable gifts, she possessed as a teacher, made the children want to learn and excel. That’s exactly what happened for our child and in no time at all, he regained his lost ground.
Since the time of Adam and Eve, the apple has been a powerful symbol of knowledge. According to The Smithsonian magazine, in the early 16th Century, poor families in Denmark and Sweden gave teachers baskets of apples, as payment for their children’s education. It’s said to be a kind gesture to show appreciation to teachers.
Any career dedicated to finding fascinating, stimulating and intriguing ways to cultivate, influence and enlighten a child, of any age, is worthy of much praise. As a new September dawns, I hope more than a few shiny, red fruits will be offered up as gestures of appreciation, for these commendable efforts.