Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire. - W. B. Yeats
If anyone had told me 28 years ago that I would dig deep into a career as an educator, I'm sure I would have rolled my eyes, as seniors are wont to do, and pitied the fool who'd make the suggestion. But, here I am, with more than 20 years in education, and I can honestly say that this has been the most rewarding endeavor I could possibly have undertaken. No doubt, some of my former teachers and classmates are stunned to hear of the path I've chosen. Some are no doubt thinking, "Who better to monitor the behavior of students, than someone who broke all the rules?" The truth is I'm a testament to those teachers who plant seeds, nurture them, and watch them grow.
I didn't plan on being a teacher, in fact quite the contrary. My sister is a teacher, and I watched the blood, sweat, and tears emanate from her as she worked to plan lessons and manage her students. Never, I thought. But, as we learn with age, never say never. After studying journalism and working in the news business, I ended up working as a writer for Mount Zion Hospital in San Francisco. I began volunteering with the Teenage Mothers Program at the hospital, and was hooked. I wanted to be teaching those teenagers to read and write more than I wanted to write press releases and articles for the marketing magazine, and so I went back to school and earned my credential. I taught middle and high school students as an administrator and educational consultant.
When I teach classes for would-be educators, I always ask them to extract two teachers from their memory banks: the worst and the best. They then share these profiles with their classmates, and we work to deduce what it was that made someone an awful teacher and what it was that made someone stellar. Clearly, there are many factors that fit into both categories, but what is always impressive is the clarity with which adults can recall both. They remember what those teachers wore, what they said, how they conducted their classrooms. TASIS England students also have indelible images of the teachers they have had. Mr. Page, Ms. Dearth, Mrs. Dessants. There are many teachers that come to mind, I'm sure, as my peers and I reflect on who those amazing teachers were in our lives. They were each unique individuals and yet they share two important traits: they were all passionate about their subjects and they all cared about us.
Teachers have much sway and impact, and I feel fortunate to have had the time at TASIS England, where classes were small and teachers were strongly connected to their students. Now, as a public school principal/superintendent of a one-school, school district nestled in the hills of the Angeles, National forest 60-some miles north of Los Angeles, I reflect on my own unique education and strive to give my students some of the same experiences and support I received. We're not getting to see Hamlet at the Old Vic, I'm afraid, but we travel to LA for cultural experiences, visit UCLA to give our students an idea of college life, and try daily to broaden our students' horizons. Most importantly, though, we connect. It's the relationship that's key; that's what will make students remember their experiences and learning, just as I do mine.
Every now and then I run into a former student or get an email or a card, and I am amazed that they remember me or the class I taught. I shouldn't be. I know that I often think about the wonderful teachers who touched my life, prodded me along and never gave up, knowing, perhaps, that I would grow up and find my way. I thank them for that, and hope, in some small way, I'm doing the same.
This article first appeared in the TASIS England Today magazine, Autumn 2007 issue.