Lessons in Life Taught By A Special Teacher!

Serena77

Serena77

New Member
Location
New York
Mr. Schiano was my English teacher in 10th grade. He was a white haired, older teacher, he seemed ancient to
me at the time! There was a no nonsense approach to him. We were assigned to read literature and do subsequent book reports.
That was right up my alley! I could read and write, no problem in this class! :)

I was quiet and shy, very reserved in class. I did not raise my hand to answer any questions but would readily answer, when called upon. One day Mr. Schiano changed the rules and I was immediately very ill
at ease! we were to read chapters of our book out loud in front of the whole class!:(

When my turn was up, I feigned a cough and was excused for that day! Alas, this could not continue so the very next time, I stood in front of the class to recite my book report, I froze in fear. All eyes were upon me!! The only thing that saved me was the ringing of the bell to announce the end of class, saved a second time!:rolleyes:

The third time, those keen blue eyes of my teacher bore into me and I immediately took my place in front
of the class. Nervous, yes! There was nothing else to do but push through my "comfort zone" and overcome
that obstacle that encased me in fear. I started to read...nervous for a few seconds. A new determination to overcome seized me. I finished my recital with calmness and confidence. :cool:

I guess without harping in many words, this teacher recognized my "game' and "ploy" and rescued me from my own bondage...I can never thank him enough for his wisdom and tenacity! :)



*****please share your experience with a favorite or particular teacher*****
 

Mrs. Stauffer, my 9th grade English teacher.

She told me I was going to be a writer. Because of her, I majored in journalism in college.

Unfortunately, that and $5.75 will get you a half caf half decaf extra foam low fat latte at Starbucks. I should have majored in something that makes a lot of money.

Thanks, anyway, Mrs. Stauffer. I still love you!
 
This would be my art teacher...He encouraged me so much, he gave me credit for who I was at a time that I really needed it.

I had just changed schools in 10th grade..left all my friends behind.

It was one of the lowest points in my life for a lot of reasons but he gave me a sense of self worth.
 

Mr. Price; 10th grade Govt & Economics. "You don't have to know all the answers; you just have to know how to find them." (And this was waaaaay before the internet, people. :D)
 
I had trouble with school work in elementary school unlike my siblings.My parents and school principal decided I needed to repeat the 4th grade. When I was told about this I was upset thinking I was really stupid.When I learned I would have the same teacher,Mrs. Hadad again,I was happy.My grades came up thanks to her,a very understanding teacher Sue
 
Fifth grade, age 10. Head and hands afflicted with Essential Tremor shaking. (At the time, I did not know why I shook only that I must hide the shaking.) Teacher told me to read a short story I had written in front of the class. Dying inside of embarrassment I stood there and read the first page. Then turned my back on the class so they could not see me shakily turning to the second page. I turned back then & read the rest of the story and then walked back to my desk. I do not recall if anyone made fun of me, but my teacher was great about it and just smiled.
 
I have the following in another thread, but it seems more appropriate here

Not sure which teacher made the biggest impression as both are still thought of quite fondly

The Wadsworth Years

Mrs Wadsworth was our teacher for a couple years…..actually 2 ½ years, as she stepped in when Mr Taboli made his infamous exit.
The white coats didn’t come to get him, but after the zip gun affair we never saw Mr Taboli again…our first conquest.

Mrs Wadsworth was different.
She was old, and done with it all, but folks gathered around her and conned her out of retirement.
Turns out she’d run a concentration camp of grades six thru eight back in Milton-Freewater for centuries.
Quite the disciplinarian, as she could still wield a bamboo rod with the deftness of a samurai.
And those high top orthopedic oxfords that housed her rheumatoid ankles were nothin’ to mess with either.
She stood about five six, and weighed in at oh say 97 lbs, but still had a presence about her.
I got her to smile a couple times, but usually she wore this sour look, like she just got fed some horse shit, of which we tried.
She had what was sometimes referred to as denture face, some real jowls, kinda looked like Deputy Dawg’s gramma….and she used it to her advantage, lookin’ down on you thru her bifocals.
Eddy P, the terror of turd grade, was putty in her gnarly hands, and even his little brother, satan of second grade, was no match.


So things were as quiet as they could be in those two years.


We all respected her, and I even admired her, and I’d like to think she got a charge outta me, as she would single me out as an example for others not to follow.
When she gave me her special attention, I’d notice her neck would commence to sorta blossom into a rather deep crimson beginning at the start of her collar and creeping up to her chin.
This aurora was gradual, and mesmerizing.

Grammar was her specialty, and diagramming sentences on the black board was what we all did, over and over…past participles and me became friends, as we both found our little special place in the parse tree of life.

But the second room in that school held my fond attention.
Miss Dickerson taught kindergarten thru second grade.

She had a dimpled smile that would melt me into deep daydreams of her and I.
I’d sit thru history class, fanaticizing about us goin’ campin’. Her lookin’ on with admiration of me building a camp fire with nothin’ but my woodsman’s prowess, and then skinny dippin’ and then, well things got sorta grey from there, so I’d be stuck on replay, filling in more details with each re-run of my boyish manliness and her absolute womanliness, then fog, then back to camping, swimming, fog….sometimes we’d just lay on the bank after skinny dippin’, all naked, basking in the sun, fixated on each other’s *******s…but there was always that darn fog…….
 
Mr.Walsh,
10th grade English teacher,To Kill a Mockingbird is required reading.
He brought that book to life for me and I have loved it since.
 

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