Best Teacher You've Ever Had

In My Humble Opinion
1

I was wondering if anyone has any stories about their favorite teachers, out there. The ones that really inspired you, that challenged you, that stuck in your mind. Perhaps the ones you still keep in contact with, although that last bit isn’t necessary.

I’m curious as to what makes them so memorable, what qualities they possessed, and how it is that they made the impact on you that they did. Regardless of whether you remember them from elementary school, middle school, high school, college or beyond, I’d love to hear about them.

Thanks!
bamf

2

Two:

Jan Witmer. Taught me drama, English and math after I got in trouble and had to finish my high school years in a school for wayward youth. Woke me right up and was the sort of teacher who could encourage and develop you properly. I got a lot of confidence from her. Though, honestly, not a lot of learning. Where I was the focus was on basic grammer and addition/subtraction. I knew everything in the courses before I hit junior high.

Dr Elinor Burkett. Now semi-famous author of The Baby Boon and other bomb-throwing books. At the time she was Associate Professor of History at my college. Her up front and honest style hit me like a brick. It was just what I needed my freshman year when she effectively adopted me and guided me through adapting to college.

3

Mr. Williams (his first name escapes me at the moment). He was my American History teacher with a heart of gold. I was a troubled youth, and he really helped me out. I hung out with some people who didn’t help my self-esteem, and I tried to go out with the wrong guys who were also pretty bad. And being Asian, you can’t really turn to your parents or any relative to ask for advice.

So I turned to him and wrote him letters about my problems and asked him for his advice. We traded letters during passing period, so no one would see, and I felt really special because he took time out to encourage me like no one had. He said very reassuring things and didn’t act like a parent in his letters. He merely posed his concerns as questions and told me to think about whether or not it would be a good decision to do X, Y or Z.

He got me through middle school and kept me from doing really bad things to myself from my depression. He was a really good guy who went beyond his duties to help a confused kid.

I visit him every couple of years to show him how I’ve matured and become a better person because of him. I was planning on visiting him in a few years, when my boyfriend and I get engaged, but after googling his name, and thinking he wasn’t at that school anymore (apparently there are many Willard Middle Schools in the country) - I think I’m going to bump up my visit to spring break. It’s worth it to see him and let him know that he changed my life and gave me a chance at growing up into a happy, well-rounded individual.

4

I’ve got a tie, personally.

  1. Mr. Coppola, my freshman English teacher. His class was fun, and I did well because he loved my writing style. The most valuable thing that he did, though, was one day, totally off-hand, say, “Write what you want to write. You’re good at it.” First time any teacher ever truly encouraged me to write the way I wanted to.

  2. Sra. Casiano, Spanish teacher freshman through senior year. I am absolutely certain that there is not a teacher out there who is more dedicated, caring, and willing to do anything to help her students. She’s a brilliant teacher and I learned an incredible amount from her, including how to truly appreciate literature. I frequently found myself staying after school for extra help with her; so often those sessions got side-tracked by my venting about whatever it was that was bothering me. She’d listen, sympathize, and give excellent advice. She helped me through, senior year, an awful emotional thing I couldn’t tell my parents about, and I knew that she’d die before she ‘ratted’ on me to my parents (or anyone). I could go on for pages about how much she helped those of us in her class. And you won’t find a single student who sat through her class and feels differently.

5

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Mrs. Rebecca Starnes, the best third grade teacher in…well, as far as I can tell, the known universe. Whereas every other grade school teacher just considered me a daydreaming pain in the ass, she made an effort to keep me engaged. Done with the homework/test and attention wandering? Hey, Stranger, can you run down to the lounge and mimeograph these sheets for me? Thanks!

It wasn’t just me; she treated every kid with respect and looked for the best in all students. She had a day every week when we’d pair up and go to different “stations” in the classroom to run some kind of experiment or solve some puzzle. She would discipline when necessary, but never to excess and she always made it clear what rule had been violated and what behavior needed to be modified in order to avoid it in the future–and she was so great I’d make every effort not to displease her.

She had this thing–Student of the Week–in which the class voted for the best behaved student. I don’t thinkshe rigged it, but every student managed to get it at least once (even me) except for the LD student that wasn’t in class most of the time. She taught us some basic cooking, and map reading, and had us write a movie script, and…well, let’s just say, out of the horror that was (for me) grade school, it was a shining year. I think I owe what little sanity I managed to retain, between the bullying and home situation, to her optimism and creativity. I can’t express how great she was, and frankly, I’m not this enthusiastic about anything except for Monty Python and Irish whisky.

I think if every teach I had in grade school was as absolutely fabulous as her, I’d have the Pulitzer Prize, the Nobel Lauruate for Physics, and Fields Medal by now. She made me what to come to school. (Well, a fellow student by the name of Beth Brown didn’t hurt, either. :wink: )

1980-1…what a great year. Pity it was all downhill from there.

Stranger

6

Mrs. Walker.

She was always a fun teacher and made things interesting although what I really remember her for is showing up at my door on a Saturday morning over Spring Break and telling my mom that I hadn’t been doing my schoolwork and she was there to pick me up and make me do it. And she did, too… a stack of papers that, I’m not kidding, was a good two inches thick.

I was too stunned at the time to be angry although I was pretty upset. Not only was it the weekend, it was during a school vacation! But while she sat at her desk listening to music and grading papers, I sat at mine and did all the work I’d been avoiding for the past two or three months. The strangest part, though, was she wasn’t my teacher – Mr. Crump was! Out of our eight hour school day, she had me for only an hour but she took it upon herself to make me do the work for the other seven as well.

That woman was crazy. But I loved her anyway. I just wish the lesson she gave me that day had stuck with me but I continued to slack all during the rest of my academic career until my last year of high school when I realized I was going to be a fifth-year senior and stayed awake in class, did my work, and earned a 3.75 GPA for the year although my cumulative was probably around the 2.0 range.

I guess she saw the (still untapped) potential in me.

I need to write her a letter one of these days and thank her for caring.

7

Mr. Lewandowski taught my 20th century history class. He told us about his personal first hand experiences with desegregation at schools in the American south - which was the sort of thing that’s hard to come by for sheltered Tasmanian kids. He had a socialist he knew come in and tell us about the shining future of socialism, then let us ask tough questions (I was very left leaning, probably more so than I am now, but the guy was just full of utopian dreaming) and waited until after the speaker left to tell us that it was his son we’d been skewering. That was pretty cool. He ran a mock Conference of Versailles, though he was pretty despairing that we factioned off and ended up making the same mistakes that were made the first time around in his opinion - but we really enjoyed the chance to be political beasts - lots of hallway confabulations and general backstabbing. He didn’t take himself too seriously and he didn’t let us take ourselves too seriously, but he did bring in guest speakers - apart from his son- whom we could take seriously, people with personal accounts of the holocaust, which was sobering but necessary, and again something that’s not all that easy for a sheltered Tassie kid to run up against.

Due to post-colonial politics, British history was no longer being taught in the school I went to, and that was problematic because Australia’s quite young and a lot of our prehistory is British. Although he was American, Mr. Lewandowski felt very strongly that we should be getting some grounding in British legal history at least, and so he voluntarily taught a lunch time class (that we didn’t get graded for, just because we wanted to be there) on British legal history. I’m sure some of the kids who went on to law school were more than grateful.

Mr. Lewandowski expansively indulged our teenage political dogmas, he never made you feel like an idiot like some rather patronizing adults, but he did bring his own biases to the classroom, and not in a bad way - more in the way that you understood that if you had lived through some of the things he had, you’d have a more nuanced view of the world. He opened that up for us.

Mr. Lewandowski also inspired general good behaviour. We had a prac. teacher for a while, and she really wasn’t very good. She was teaching the section on the Cold War, and a couple of us were self-taught Cold War history buffs who rather obviously knew more about the subject than she did. But because Mr. Lewandowski expected us to behave well, we handled her with kid gloves. She could only have been a couple of years older than us, and frankly we were obnoxious little intellectual over-achievers for the most part, so we could have, I should think, been devastatingly awful to her. It’s amazing how one person can inspire even arrogant teenagers to behave in a truly courteous manner.

8

The man that caused me to become a teacher, Mr. Harold Perdue my 10th and 11th grade history teacher, is my obvious choice.

His class was not the most entertaining, not by a long shot, though he did have some great jokes.

He didn’t care if he was my best friend or not, but he was nice enough.

He showed me, and everyone else in my class, that we were capable of far more than we thought. He challenged us to rise above the status quo. He made us really think and analyze information, perhaps for the first time in our lives. He resisted the urge to “dumb down” the material, even when many students were struggling to do as well as they were used toand parents were complaining that his class was too challenging. He taught me the value of working hard to obtain an “A”, and at the same time proved that getting an “A” didn’t really mean anything compared to what you actually learned. He instilled the word “perseverance” in my vocabulary, and proved its worth.

What else can I say?

9

Yikes–there is more than one.

Mr. McConnell-my US History teacher, grade 11. He transmitted a love of history to me and also an interest in the people who made history. He was (basically) a spy in WW2 and he would tell us stories about some of his exploits. I grew up and married and had a baby and we decided to join a local church. I had just figured out that he was also a member of the congregation when he died suddenly of a heart attack(he was by then retired, of course). I still regret never having thanked him, but I did send a note to his widow, expressing the above. She sought me out and thanked me for it. :slight_smile:

Another HS teacher, Mr. Monohan–encouraged me with my writing, and also believed in me that I could actually achieve something. He taught our AP English class much like a college course–no petty HS rules in his class. And we treated our freedom with respect–we had hot debates in that class about theme, symbolism, metaphor and Truth…I loved it. I still miss it, frankly!

A 6th grade teacher took all of us highest reading group people and had us do all sorts of things that year–we wrote original sketches and performed for the class, we adapted some children’s lit to drama form and performed that also. We wrote poetry and had contests etc–it was an excellent method of teaching us about the written word.

To my mind, all the above have one thing in common: they gave a damn. They truly cared for their students and it showed.

10

Don Reynolds, my freshman calculus teacher.

Background: I slacked off in high school, and when I graduated, planned to play guitar for a living. I did so for a year and a half, not very successfully. So I decided to go back to college. I had developed an interest in electronics, and wondered whether I could study electrical engineering. But everyone told me that this required really good mathematics skills, which I certainly did not have. I bought a Schaum’s outline of pre-calc and studied it for around six months.

With my shaky grasp of the pre-reqs, I am really glad I ended up in Dr. Reynolds’ calc class. He was an outstanding lecturer. He was stern, but pleasant. More importantly, he really seemed to want, more than anything, for everyone to learn the material. He didn’t act like you were a dummy impinging on his time if you didn’t understand something – you could ask him to explain it again, and he would do so enthusiastically.

He also conveyed a deep interest in the subject matter – he really seemed to think it was fun. And I started to realize, it was fun! This contrasted with many of my previous math teachers, who projected an air of, “Well, here’s your medicine, take it or leave it, it’s for your own good”.

This contagious enthusiasm fed my motivation.

Cut to the present: I got into engineering school, graduated, and got a job. I later ended up finding that math was actually my strong suit (I took a graduate degree in it). Apparently, my trouble with math was due to my own slacking off, or bad teachers (probably a combination thereof).

Today, I work as an engineer, but I find it very satisfying to tutor people at math: unlike teachers who were always math whizzes, I can relate to (and help them with) their lack of understanding things.

I repeat: I am really glad I ended up in Dr. Reynolds’ calculus class.

11

Two teachers come to my mind.

The first was my 9th grade Co-op teacher, Mr. Brent Hill. 8th grade was pure hell for me, and I began 9th grade on shakey grounds. Had it not been for his encouragement, support and guidance (plus bending the co-op rules enough to get me work at the school site so I could squeeze in a Theatre Arts class in the afternoon), then I doubt I would be the person I am today. He made an offhand remark once about me “being smart” (when he put me in an honors English class once he realized that I was completely bored in the co-op English class) that stuck with me, even 20 years later. Mr. Hill, thank you–had it not been for you, then I would not have had the courage to be the person I am today.

The second was a Creative Writing (and later British Lit) teacher I had when I attended a community college. Dr. Jean Frobe was the classiest dame I’ve ever met in my life and very intelligent. She not only encouraged my writing, but also my creativity and modes of expression. Her influence didn’t stop in the classroom, but continued throughout the rest of my life. Whenever I was in a situation socially that I thought myself unprepared to handle (which occured far too often), I would think to myself, “How would Dr. Froeb handle this?” and it always made things better for me. I attempted to raise HallGirls with the “Dr. Froeb Sense”. A couple of years ago, I wrote her a thank you letter–and she wrote back! I’m not particulary sentimental, and I don’t physically hold onto things, but I still have that letter from her. Dr. Froeb, you made an incredible impression upon me, and I can never thank you enough.

12

Dr Jack Sission.

He taught me saxophone. I was a music major in college and you take an hour private lesson on your major instrument. I only had him one hour a week for two years.

The man was great. When the Karate Kid came out, everyone compared Mr. Myagi to Dr. S and found Myagi lacking.

He had this sheet of paper with some doodles on it and this sheet of paper would tell you everything you needed to know about playing the sax you would ever need. My favorite looked like this.

:mad: :slight_smile: :mad:

This display shows the sax section when you use a particular tonguing technique.

You’re the guy in the middle.

13

I didn’t mean to do another post, but I wanted to include one more teacher (if that’s allowed).–Dr. Terry Luce.

I had him for an Adolescence related class in college (don’t recall the exact nature of the class), but he was absolutely passionate about the protection of children. Before I enrolled in his class, I’d heard the rumors about what a hard-ass he was and how “horrible” his classes were, but that was the ONLY class which fit my schedule and was on the list I needed to take, so I enrolled in the class. I was an older student, surrounded by 18 and 19 year old students, who were terrified of Dr. Luce. However, maybe it was because of my age (I was in my late 20’s) and my exposure to life in general, I found him to be completely different. Yes, he was a hard-ass (when grading), and his expectations were high for his students, but he had a wonderfully dry wit (which went over the heads of almost all the class) and knew inside and out the stuff he was teaching us. Early on in the semester, I went to his office before class to ask for clarification on something he’d said in a prior class, and we had a fantastic discussion. Soon, I was there before class every time. Dr. Luce made me see things outside my blinders and really opened me to thinking of things from a completely different perspective. He was amazing.

14

Only two here, of quite a number. Both from my senior year of high school.

Bob Sackrider taught AP English, and introduced me to literary analysis. His class is frankly the only time I’ve ever gotten anything less than straight 4.0s on papers in a literature class, because he set high standards in order to teach us - and, even though I’m nearly done with my Spanish degree, and it involved a lot of lit classes, I think I learned more about literature from him than anyone else. Plus, he turned me on to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, which is why I chose Spanish as one of my majors in college.

Connie Ciangi (often called The Captain, though I called her Connie :)) was my AP US History teacher. I can’t really claim she changed my life, but she was just so freaking cool. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met - and she knew the subject inside and out, which is the single best thing a teacher can do. She was funny, and her class was really the highlight of my day. It was just about the funnest class I’ve ever had (and my knowledge of history gained from her class has somehow stuck with me and snuck into my later education surprisingly often. Four years later, I’m taking a class in Urban Planning Law and the basis in constitutional law from her class has been a tremendous benefit.) Plus she was unabashedly leftist in a small right-wing town, which was a nice relief. I trust her judgment so much that, two years into college, when I ran into a moral conflict, I looked her up and got her opinion, just because I didn’t trust anyone else to have a sensible approach to the situation.

15

The best I ever had was an instructor for Humans and the Environment, long ago in community college–the one where I teach now. He was amazing, generous, loving, insightful, and taught us with great field trips to all sorts of places we might never have experienced otherwise. He showed us how much he cared about this planet and about all of us.

16

Mr. Gilboa, my high school history teacher. A grey-haired, grandfatherly, stout man, he impressed me with his innovative (to me, anyway) way of dealing with disruptive students in the classroom – he didn’t give a sh*t. As far as he was concerned, his job was to teach stuff to the students in the classroom; if you didn’t want to learn, you had his blessing to leave the room and wallow in your own ignorance. He didn’t care, and he didn’t bother to hide that from you. It was from him that I realized that education was a two way street, that knowledge wasn’t something that was given to you, but something you had to go fetch for yourself.

17

I also have two teachers that I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

The first was my English 101 teacher when I first got into college, Mrs. Brown. She didn’t talk like a teacher. She talked like just some woman that knew a lot about English, liked talking about English, and was very confident in talking about English. I actually gave a flying fuck in that class, which hadn’t really ever happened to me before in my entire scholastic career. She had options on her tests, she gave very broad leeway on writing assignments… her Final Exam had a fucking “write something creative” option, prompting me to fill my Blue Book with a seven- or eight-page short story (about which, I forget. I should dig it up.)

I got a B in that class, which is the highest grade I had ever had in an English class. Unspectacular, but hey, it thrilled me.

Fast-forward five years. I’m still doing theatre projects up at the building, so I happen to be on campus during the school day, waiting to meet up with my Stage Manager. She walks by me. I recognize her, of course, but I’m absolutely sure she didn’t recognize me. It has been five years, after all, with no contact between us in the interim.

“You were in my class several years ago, weren’t you?” I hear her ask.

I’m amazed, and answer in the affirmative. She even remembered my name, which is incredible because I didn’t exactly chat with her much in class. But she remembered my writing. She remembered that she thought it was brilliant, even if I was really lazy. In fact, when Otto Octavius uttered the “Brilliant but lazy!” line in Spider-Man 2, I had to rewind and hear it again, because it was so like this one encounter.

Now, having written a double-wide boatload, I get to a more recent teacher, Professor McMillan. He taught History 11, Political and Social History of the United States. First, the fact that he taught us a hefty amount of political history and I STILL have no idea what political party he’s part of will tell you something about his ability to be impartial. He was pleasant, and clever, relaxed, sure of himself, and had a fucking huge, burning bonfire of passion for the subject. I wrote more notes in his class - five pages a day, usually - than I had ever written in every class, K-12 an’ all, before.

He got me fucking interested. He told stories, he didn’t give lectures. He acted out the last few lines of William Jennings Bryan’s “Cross of Gold” speech. He gave us so many interesting details about every subject, from his hatred of Woodrow Wilson to the start of the Vietnam war.

But what got me the most was his lecture about the Nazis during World War II. I believe he actually got the whole class to understand WHY such a horrible party came to power, discussing the psychological aspects, the desperation of the population… he summed it all up with this excellent story of an interview taken with a former, anonymous Nazi, done in the '70s. McMillan gave us the whole story following this unnamed man’s youth in Germany, how the people were lost, how the Nazis came along offering them help, the Nazi youth party, how they blamed the depression on the government “betraying” its people.

It was a trip, that’s for sure. If every teacher was as good as McMillan or Brown, the world would be a very, very intelligent place.

18

Mr. Flagg
Taught me calculus…when I was a senior in high school. I had NO interest in learning anything ‘academic’ as a senior in high school, yet he somehow managed anyway. And the even more incredible part… he knew his stuff so very well, but could always understand why someone else might be having a problem, and then explain it to me so that I’d ‘get it’ . Amazing.

19

7th grade English brought me Mr. Seyboldt-a straight ahead fellow who did his darndest to teach us all to speak well, write well, and be proud of our communication. An excellent instructor and fun guy, I thank him for what he taught me.

20

I could nominate a few, but I’ll go with my 10th grade European History teacher/11th grade Classical History teacher/debate coach, Mr. Smestad. Only male teacher I ever had who wore an earring and a ponytail. He was a very good, fun teacher and a good friend who I go back and see whenever I can. He was one of those teachers you could talk to about anything and he had a lot of respect for his students, he treated them like adults instead of charges he was being paid to watch. In his spare time he does medieval reenactments (with the SCA, I think). One of the shortest guys ever to wear a suit of armor, I’m sure. He also plays the hurdy-gurdy. Smes is a very funny teacher and a relaxed one, with an usual attitude in part because he came to the profession late. He worked as a mechanic for years before going back to school and becoming a teacher 10 or 12 years ago.