Being Mr. Sawatzky
I noticed the change in myself the first time I walked into my classroom. I was no longer Jamie. That was the name of the young man who had delivered pizzas or worked at the office. My newfound teaching life had metamorphosed me into "Mr. Sawatzky." My previous work experiences had taught me a variety of skills, but accepting the title of teacher brings with it responsibilities that do not appear on most job descriptions. Walking through the classroom door has cast me into a world where I am charged with the awesome responsibility of sculpting young minds and preparing students for positive participation in their community.
When asked why they entered the profession, many teachers respond, "I wanted a chance to make a positive change in the world." In my case, perhaps selfishly, I wanted to be in a profession that would make a positive change in me. With my first year of teaching about to conclude, I can say that I am happy to be a teacher and happy to be "Mr. Sawatzky."
—Jamie Sawatzky, 7th grade U.S. History Teacher, Rocky Run Middle School, Chantilly, Virginia
A Book a Day
Our principal was not happy when teachers missed school. But I got the flu. I stayed home for three days and wasn't any better, so I went back to work. Before the school day had started, kids were checking out library books. As I stood beside my circulation desk, I fainted.
I wasn't unconscious very long, but I was flat on my back on the library floor. One 5th grade girl glanced at me. In a nonchalant tone, she said, "Well, I guess Mrs. Kerby is dead." Then she stepped over me, checked out her book, and left.
When I got back up on my feet, another 5th grader popped in with a big grin on his face. "Today is my library day!" he said. "What are you going to teach us today?"
Our principal drove me home. Forever after, I was the only teacher who didn't get the cold shoulder for missing school. "You stay home now, Mrs. Kerby. I don't want to have to pick you up off the floor and carry you home."
The morals of the story are that fainting brings out the best in a principal—and, apparently, I can influence children to read even when I'm dead.
—Ramona N. Kerby, Associate Professor, Western Maryland College, Former Librarian, Little Elementary School, Arlington, Texas
Getting Real
"You're taking a $12,000 pay cut to do what?" OK, so leaving Bellcore at the age of 33 was not my husband's idea of a financially sound decision. But I knew that I had to follow my heart to a non-air-conditioned, overcrowded classroom filled with children as diverse as the duties I was about to undertake.
I quickly learned that my idealistic dream of changing academia with my advanced technological background was nothing more than a pompous fantasy. These real kids, with real problems and real families, were more interested in hormones, sports, popularity, and video games than anything I had to say. Despite this, I grew to love the students for who they were, and I somehow morphed into their red-brick world.
—Carol Caruso, Head Guidance Counselor, Henry Hudson Regional School District, Highlands, New Jersey
The Gift
There they sat—all 27 of them. It was the first day of school of my last year of teaching. I had taken a sabbatical the previous year to complete the coursework for my doctorate. To tell the truth, I did not want to go back to the classroom. I had grown tired of the committees, bus duties, and mandates from well-intentioned but out-of-touch legislators and administrators. Going back to teaching 6th graders—a job I had done for 17 years—did not appeal to me anymore. But I went back and stood in front of the kids who had that look of expectancy that all students have on the first day of school, as if a gift were about to be opened for them.
So I started teaching. It felt as if I had put on an old sweatshirt: comfortable and warm and fitting just right. Throughout the year, I told stories of ancient cultures until the students wanted to learn history. I read books that made them want to read more. I taught geography, the parts of a sentence, and the nature of the oceans until they wanted to travel, write, and swim. And they reminded me that I did not become a teacher for the duties and committees and certainly not for the mandates from on high. I became a teacher for the kids.
—Elizabeth R. Hinde, 6th Grade Teacher, Porter Elementary School, Mesa, Arizona
Learning from Tyra
Tyra was an 18-year-old student with a 6-month-old baby, living with her grandmother, mother, sister, and nephew in a two-bedroom house in the projects. In November, she decided to move out on her own. She had outstanding traffic tickets, however, which had turned into a warrant for her arrest. Although she wanted to pursue her goals, she knew that she had to turn herself in to the police to serve her punishment. Over Christmas vacation, Tyra handed her baby over to me, turned herself in to the police, and spent her vacation in jail "sitting out" her tickets. Then, she successfully completed her job training and got a job.
I came into this profession to influence my students so that they might achieve their potential. As it turns out, they teach me every day. The Tyras of the world are the reason I'm teaching our children.
—Caroline Chaves, Special Educator, Wichita Falls Independent School District, Wichita Falls, Texas
At the Hospital School
When I say I'm a librarian in the Hospital School, folks either look puzzled or ask how I like working with medical students. But the students at my school in the University of North Carolina Hospital in Chapel Hill are not studying to be doctors. Instead, they come from all over the state to receive medical treatment. They might be in for a bone-marrow transplant, cystic fibrosis, leukemia, bad burns, or difficult psychiatric problems.
Moving to the Hospital School after 25 years in a typical high school library has opened my eyes to a unique and creative way of teaching. Each day, the 13 teachers check the hospital admissions list and decide who will teach which child—often, according to the child's ailment rather than his or her age. The teacher consults with the doctors about when the child will be ready to study, contacts the child's home district teacher for assignments, facilitates communication between the student and the teacher through e-mail, and designs lessons. Whereas the students in the psychiatric unit meet in groups in small classrooms, those on pediatrics are often tutored individually in their rooms because they are less able to move around. I've watched in awe as a teacher worked for one hour on a reading and writing assignment with a 2nd grader and the next hour on an algebra assignment with a high school student.
Not all students are patients in the hospital. One middle school boy was visiting his mother in the burn unit. A young teen mother kept up with her studies while her baby was hospitalized. Others have moved out of the hospital into temporary quarters while they continue receiving therapy. All students are incorporated into the welcoming school culture.
—Nancy Henderson-James, Media Specialist, Hospital Schools, Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Sneaking in the Lesson
I quit teaching twice. I wanted to make more money. I soon missed teaching and felt a need to return. I discovered that teaching was what I was supposed to do.
I began teaching more than 30 years ago. The students sat at their desks and didn't talk or move. They were to be seen and not heard. Learn the lesson and give it back on a test. I taught them from the outside in. Now I listen to them. I look for ways to sneak information into their heads. I let them know that they are important and accepted for who they are.
Only a few years ago did I learn what love is. It is something you do and not something you get. A teacher must love the profession as well as the students.
—David McDonald, Chemistry Teacher, Smithson Valley High School, Spring Branch, Texas
Whose Problem?
I work with gifted students. Once in a while, we must make a team decision to accelerate a student from one grade to another. Sometimes, we first allow the student to transition part time from his or her present grade to the next.
Two years ago, a 1st grade boy was making such a transition. The plan was to have him spend mornings in his 1st grade classroom and afternoons in a 2nd grade classroom. We wanted to be low-key about this transition period, however, in case it didn't work out.
One afternoon, as Max headed down the hall to 2nd grade, a 1st grade girl stopped him and asked where he was going. Max was prepared for this question and gave a short and courteous reply. Unfortunately, the girl kept asking Max why he was going to 2nd grade. Exasperated and a little confused himself, Max rolled his eyes and said, "Look, I'm having an intelligence problem and they don't know what to do with me, so I'm going to try 2nd grade, okay?"
—Susan Harnden, Intervention Specialist for Gifted Education, Scioto Ridge Elementary School, Powell, Ohio
Cheerleader and Teacher
During the interview for my first teaching position, the principal bluntly stated that my decision to coach the cheerleaders determined whether I got the job. Coaching was not exactly what I had in mind as a would-be English teacher. Teachers were a dime a dozen at that time, however, and I was fortunate to be offered a job. For five years, I coached two cheerleading squads and taught drama and remedial English.
The interview for my second job was pretty much the same. The principal wanted to know what was the latest movie I had seen—after he had assigned me to coach the cheerleaders.
By the time I started at my third school, I cried the first time I was called to the principal's office. I knew he was going to assign me to coach the cheerleaders, but he did not. This principal was interested in how I taught English. He asked questions about my teaching style. At last, I had encouragement. And 20 years later, I'm still an educator.
—Norma Piestrak, Media Coordinator, Johnsonville Primary School, Cameron, North Carolina
The Right Stuff
I will always remember Patricia. She told me, "I'll never be able to pass this English grammar class." We worked together for weeks analyzing parts of speech and sentence patterns. Finally, something clicked; Patricia passed her English class with a B. When she left my adult high school diploma program, she sent me a note: "Finishing high school feels great."
I entered teaching to teach content; I now realize that I stay in teaching to teach students. My mission is to help students learn how to learn and to inspire students. I do this by challenging them to give their best efforts when they think they don't have the "right stuff" for learning.
—Terry Tomlinson, Professor of Continuing Education, Santiago Canyon College, Orange, California
Another Good Year
My students make me a better person and teacher, just as my own children do. Each year, when they share their thoughts and tell me what I'm doing right and where I need to improve, I refine my delivery. I am encouraged by their approval, and I weigh their disapproval carefully to see whether I should clarify something or leave it out.
This year, I was fortunate to have some students for a second year in a mixed grade level class. The 7th graders were organized, prepared, and on top of their world! It is such a pleasure to see students who know what to do, do it, and glow in their achievements. They even tell me what they have learned.
—Lilo Wolfe, 6th Grade Teacher, Rappahannock County Elementary School, Washington, Virginia
Schoolmarm
The prim young woman in a high-collared dress casts her thin, sepia smile at me. Around her are 22 boys and girls, ages 6–13. The tallest boy's head obscures part of the date written on the chalkboard behind him, but the month and year are readable: January 1906.
The schoolmarm in the photograph is my grandmother, who taught eight grades in a rural, one-room schoolhouse until Granddaddy proposed marriage. Spinsterhood was a requirement for the teaching position, so her resignation was duly submitted.
I like to glance at the photograph from time to time. If she were here, I wonder how she would size up the progress of education since her day. She would find chalk dust and inkwells superseded by dry-erase markers and roller ball pens; rote memorization became outmoded when audiovisual media and whole language swept into schools. The 1906 library was a slim book stack in a corner of the classroom.
Exciting innovations have transformed the school library from a building resource center to an interconnected world of literature and information. Seated now at my computer, however, I ponder the limitations of high-tech tools. As our children make the journey from curiosity to wisdom, surely teacher-student connections rank infinitely higher than electronic connections.
The aging photograph on my desk is a poignant remembrance of the special role Grandmother played in my life. It reminds me to be thankful for the wealth of resources available in a modern building. Most important, the picture prompts me to acknowledge the importance of human interaction between my students and me.
—Jane Chesney, Librarian, The John Cooper School, The Woodlands, Texas
Walter, Lynda, and . . .
I stay in education for Walter, who, in 7th grade, wrote, "The most valuable thing that we did this year was community service. I co-coached a youth basketball team, which ended up coaching me into becoming a better person."
I also stay for Lynda, who confided, "The best thing that I read this year was Death Be Not Proud, because it made me realize that other people also lost loved ones and that my family and I were not alone in the world."
Walter and Lynda wrote those pieces almost six years ago, and I've since watched both grow into remarkable young adults.
I have other reasons for staying in education—Isidro, Peanut, Mel, Emily—all with their own needs and stories. Each presents a new challenge, and even though our interactions aren't always pleasant, they are always meaningful. I jokingly refer to my role as that of a "reluctant administrator" because not a day goes by that I don't want to be back in the classroom. But for now, I'm where I need to be to help kids, and that's what education is about for me.
—Jo Beth Jimerson, Assistant Principal, Smithson Valley High School, San Antonio, Texas
La Maestra
Every year I am blessed with fresh-faced kindergartners. I am awed by the knowledge that each child brings to our learning community. We converse in English and Spanish, and I am drawn into the learning. My students challenge me to improve my Spanish grammar and vocabulary. And I offer the same opportunity in English. It is a more than fair exchange of knowledge. We talk about ranchos in Mexico and sing about Old MacDonald. I struggle to communicate with parents who are very tolerant of my imperfect Spanish. They reward my efforts by working diligently with their children. Most important, they trust me,La Maestra, with their children.
Now a senior teacher, I offer support to my own son who has chosen to leave corporate life and enter the teaching world. I am seeing teaching through his eyes.
—Lee Schafer Antonna, Bilingual Kindergarten Teacher, Amy L. Houston Academy, Phoenix, Arizona
World of Work
My mother was a housewife and a substitute teacher, and my father was a farmer, a store owner, and an insurance agent. Their work ethic intrigued and influenced me.
I began pumping gas, tendering the change for customers, calculating on the old Burroughs 10-key adding machine, rolling coins into the bank wrappers, and sweeping the floors of the country store. These experiences might be equated to the internship, job shadowing, and on-the-job training—opportunities that are now available to students through the school-to-work initiative. When I went to high school, the business teacher modeled and set the tone of the business world in her class. Some time during accounting and typing classes, I decided to become a business teacher.
As a teacher with genuine respect for the work ethic, I prepare students to compete in the global marketplace and to be lifelong learners. My classroom becomes an office setting, a non-threatening environment in which all students perform at a level commen-surate with their abilities. Each student receives instructional tasks that serve as blueprints for success. A student's point of departure is a step toward the world of work.
—Gloria Duncan, Grades 10–12 Business and Marketing Teacher, Jaspar County High School, Ridgeland, South Carolina
"Da Bomb"
I am Kanesha Lee Baynard, high school Spanish teacher extraordinaire! But my title does not just stop there. I am the superenergetic educator, "da bomb," the inspirer, the nurturer. I am the one who will stop my students and say, "Now, I know that your mama taught you better than that!" I am the one trying to keep it together in the classroom while the school is falling apart in committee meetings. I am the personal stylist who says, "Now, if you are going to wear that dress to prom, you must have the correct undergarments!" I am the one who reminds my students that out in the real world, they will need skills that will set them apart from the other fun, cute, witty, and smart job candidates. I am the one who will stop a student in the hallway so that we can analyze just why profanity is not acceptable in our loud but respectful hallways. I am the one who reflects on the day during the commute home and sheds a tear every so often because my efforts seem so useless and the job becomes too much. But in the morning, I am the teacher who returns to class ready to change the world all over again.
—Kanesha Lee Baynard, Spanish Teacher, Thornridge High School, Dolton, Illinois
Remembering Richard
I often think of a former student, a 17-year-old who was shot to death while riding his bicycle. Formerly an active gang member, Richard cleaned up his act in the two and one-half years that I'd known him. If you took the time to look, you would have seen a nice kid, still a little rough around the edges, but someone who took care of himself and had an infectious grin. He'd even gotten me a birthday card.
He was so proud of that card—of himself, really—because it symbolized a milestone for him. It was obviously the first time he had allowed himself to show fondness for another male. In fact, all day he kept returning to my desk to look at the card and to reread his own greeting. In this macho world, caring about other males automatically makes one suspect, and very few have the courage to go against the tide.
—Mark Kennedy, Alternative Education Teacher, West End Community School, San Bernardino County, California
A New Year
Each September, school takes me by surprise, and I wonder how to begin. You would think that I would know by now. But I have discovered that although I may know where we are headed, with skills and concepts in mind, exactly how we will get there will be determined by the children who join me as a community of learners. And so I wait to meet them, and then the excitement and challenges begin. Trust and risk join hands.
I have come to trust children. With supportive structures in place, the children will respond with enthusiasm to the challenge of learning. They will handle the frustration inherent in real problem solving and emerge with pride and new understanding. Children who have opportunities to work together, to share successes and difficulties, and to become resources to one another come to value one another's thinking and individuality.
—Karen Miller, 2nd and 3rd Grade Teacher, Wilsonville Primary School, West Linn, Oregon
First-Year Blues
During my first year of student teaching, I was about to admit defeat. One day, while reading a poem by Langston Hughes, my eyes, now trained to quickly scan the room for talkers who needed to be shushed, finally opened to see a different angle in the classroom. Just as I was about to reprimand a talker, I looked into the eyes of a student staring quietly at me, patiently waiting to hear the next line. His eyes shone with sincere interest, and my heart almost stopped. In an instant, I was struck by the realization that I had been ignoring the quiet students who diligently did their work and paid attention.
From that point, I ignored the minor disruptions and put my energy toward the students who actually followed my directions and displayed an interest in literature. The tone of the class changed. The students with a desire to learn started to bloom. One girl even approached me after class and said that she loved Langston Hughes's poetry. Another student told me that I was doing a great job. These comments sent my heart soaring.
—Kristen Burke, 9th and 10th Grade English, Speech, and Debate Teacher, Torrey Pines High School, San Diego, California
Key to the Future
Raised in a poor Mexican barrio of Chicago's southeast side, I learned quickly that education was the key to the future. I have worked with others to identify gifted and talented students who come from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds and attend school in our most poverty-stricken communities. So far we have identified almost 400 students in only 10 schools, dispelling the myth that gifted and talented students could not be found in these communities. I am confident that our work will make a difference in the education of this generation and future generations.
—Jaime Antonio Castellano, Gifted Education Program, Administrator, Palm Beach County, Florida
Attitude
Pride fills my heart as my grade 5 English language learners talk about the inequalities of the Jim Crow laws that African Americans had to endure and describe how the after-effects of slavery still have a negative impact on our society. My aim for more than 25 years has been to provoke thought, effect change, and instill pride in all children to enable them to carry on the message that, indeed, all people are created equal.
Someone once said, "Attitude determines altitude." It is my hope and belief that what I do really matters and that, somehow, the message gets across to my students and elevates them through language and deed. Prejudice and racism continue to pervade U.S. society, and I must do what I can to eradicate these ills.
—Ilene Moore, K–5 English-as-a-Second-Language Teacher, P.S. 200, Brooklyn, New York
