On The Importance Of Good Teachers

I went to some absolutely awful schools as a little guy. When my Mom & Dad settled us in the place I call home, I was fortunate to have some very good teachers. Some, of course, were crotchety and boring. Others were too concerned with being friends and didn’t ever garner the respect and admiration of their students.

My favorite teacher was Mr Lawrence. He was an affable, dry-humored man with a subtle wit. He taught my Art, Art II, Independent Art I, II, III, Photography, Photog II,  Sociology, and Psychology classes. He never had children, which is a shame, he probably would’ve been a good Dad.

A good teacher will teach children lessons that they will carry with them throughout their days. Who is your favorite teacher?

Hat-tip to A Guy.

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3 Responses to On The Importance Of Good Teachers

  1. BaconNeggs says:

    All my life I attended shitty schools, with the lowest academic expectation. At one stage in my teens I was barely literate but considered myself a genius because of all the other “geniuses” that surrounded me. We had a lot of dull, boring uninterested,uncaring and friendly and unfriendly teachers, that I cant remember now.

    However, from among all stand out three, Mr Griffiths (Geography/Sports teacher) a Rugby loving Welshman, tough as nails and gentle giant of a man. He was a strong male role model on both the boys and girls.

    Mr Mackenzine (Art) a white haired, clay sculpting potter, pipe smoking Scotsman who imparted a gentle wisdom about life in his class.

    The last teacher who had the most impact on me was a dead ringer for drill sargent Gunney, a tough unfriendly barking Scotsman. On our very first morning, he kicked me out of his class after less than 5 minitues, for being a smartass joker. He embarrassed me about my academic ability, but most importantly went out of his way, to set me extra handwriting and grammar drills, that I still do this day.

    I also had an old style Englishman (Mathematics teacher) who really did try his best but had a way of talking that never connected to his students as hard as he tried, and he sent us into a glazed over state within seconds. None of my teachers ever taught me how to learn. I learned how to learn, after I left school and started reading and educating myself.

    So two Scotsman and a Welshman help laid my foundation.

  2. messup says:

    There are an abundance of good teachers as well as good administrators. What’s causing America’s educational crisis is Cloward-Piven. Need proof? Take a picture of Speaker of the House, Vice President and Chief Justice out and about any street in America. Ask passer-bys to name those people in each of the three pictures…most will get them totally wrong.

    This is: school curriculum, text books, and teachers aids. Period. A teacher is only as good as their; materials, school’s administration and overall philosophy. If all three stink, the end product will stink. Easy!!!

    Putting Bill Ayers in charge of school text books will definitely skew every American schools:administration, teacher and student into little cadres of obedient serfs. Darn, this is history repeating itself just like in Soviet Union, China its “cultural revolution” and Western Europe’s EuroZone. How convenient: a Global Union of willing serfs.Pray. Amen.

  3. Bman says:

    Herr Ernie Brockman. He was my German teacher in high school. I took 3 years of German, but hardly learned a thing about the language. I was one of the kids who sat in the back and used that class period to screw off with a few of the other screw off’s in class. We always had a good time.

    What I learned from Herr Brockman was much bigger than a language, (which I didn’t learn). You see, Herr Brockman grew up in Germany prior to WWII. He was part of the Hitler Youth. The things he told us while he was growing up in Nazi Germany were horrifying. One such story stands out in my mind the most. One day, one of his childhood friends disappeared. The whole family just vanished. He didn’t understand why. I still think about that story he told over 22 years ago in German class.

    When Herr Brockman stopped teaching about the German language, and told us stories of his youth, the whole class was silent. Even the screw off’s like me. Best history lessons ever.

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