Teachers Who Made a Difference

I recently read a post by friend and fellow blogger Steph. She and I are both stay-at-home moms (SAHMs) of kids about the same age, and have discussed education at length of late. She recently posted about the educators who made a difference in her life, which is funny, because I was thinking of a few of them these past weeks, too. I just didn't think to give them the proper thanks that they deserve, so i thought I would rectify the matter by giving them their very own post.
First and foremost, I have to thank my most valuable teachers: My parents. They instilled in me a love of reading and learning that has never left me in all these years. I remember them reading to me every night (Go, Dog, Go! and Cranberry Thanksgiving and Christmas), and I remember learning to read by example. Mom always had a paperback in hand, and Dad was a loyal, seven-days/week newspaper reader. In fact, he even attemped to teach me to read the stock market pages. Mom always told me that as long as I had a book, I had a friend. (This served me well in those awkward middle school years.)

Next up? Ms. Hamilton, my first grade teacher at the now defunct Northwestern Elementary in Alpharetta. She was an African-American woman, and I think she was young and unmarried. I remember having reading groups, based on our reading levels, and they were held in groups at a back table in the room. I don't remember having a lot of other subjects; As far as I recall, we had reading and math, had a lunch and a recess, and occasionally (maybe once a week for an hour) a music teacher came in. (In particular, i remember him playing a creepy Halloween record with a song on it called, "The Ghost of John," to which we had to walk around the room as if we were ghosts, while singing. Fat chance schools would do something so cool these days!) Ms. Hamilton spent time with all of the students, no matter their level, and challenged us. When we weren't receiving instruction directly from her, we were to complete cards out of a box that I believe was called "SRA." It was fun and challenging to continue to complete more and more difficult cards. I still credit this classroom with much of my learning today.

8th grade: Mrs. Sparrow. She was my homeroom teacher, (my friend Steph's husband, Doug, was in my homeroom that year!) and she also taught science. I actually don't recall much about what I learned in those years, but I do remember that she was aware enough of her students to know that I was having difficulties and she would try to talk to me about it. At the time, these talks didn't do much to allay my angst, but looking back, maybe someone just noticing was enough to make a difference. i would like to think that one of my childrens' teachers would notice if they were having problems.

High School: Mr. Terry. I am not sure what years I had him, as I think i had him more than once for history classes. But this was a man whose love of his subject was contagious, and who really could get a kid (who was completely preoccupied with meeting boys and going to parties) occasionally think about history. I only wish that I had been a better student, or who knows where I might be now with his instruction in a subject that I now find so interesting! But it was certainly not his fault; the fault was all mine.

Sadly, that is my very short list. Three teachers who actually really made an impact on me. I don't mean to say that there weren't other good teachers in my years of public school, but those are the ones that stick out for me as going the extra mile to help me, both in the classroom and out.

But Mom and Dad are the real heroes here.