For almost forty years I never missed an opportunity to bash teachers. I always believed that I accomplished what I have despite the teachers I’ve had, and not thanks to them. I often propose that at the age of six I was tried, convicted and sentenced to twelve years of hard labor without the possibility of parole. My school years were depressing, without inspiration, aspiration or hope. I clearly remember the last day of school. It’s been thirty years, and I haven’t looked back yet. I don’t go to reunions, I don’t want to hug and kiss with the warden or the correction officers. Did I just say that? I meant the principal and the teachers of course. Forgive me.
Only in college I discovered the joy of pure learning, the satisfaction in understanding abstract concepts, the accomplishment in solving a hard problem, expressing a complex algorithm, I became a scholar. I learned to respect education and educators.
Almost thirty years later I’m ready to state that the generalization is wrong (dah, of course it is…). I was subjected to the worst bunch of teachers on the planet. As if they were carefully selected for some freak show. I’m ready to say that there are other teachers. Caring, giving, understanding. Teachers who listen to children, respect them, even love them.
Shiri’s teacher, Miss Ruth is that kind of teacher. I never attended her class. Nonetheless, she taught me a whole lot. Seeing Shiri’s reaction to her made me understand many things about students, teachers, parents and education. Students will learn out of fearing their teachers, parents and bad consequences. They will learn better if they respect their teachers, and have the understanding that their parents really want what’s best for them. They will excel if they love their teachers, identify with them, see them as role models. Shiri is a curious child, who loves to question everything, who needs to understand the details as well as the big picture. In grade school, she had found the joy of studying that I only discovered in my twenties. I attribute that to Miss Ruth.
Today, as the school year concludes, I want to thank Miss Ruth. Again. I want to thank her for taking part in the painstaking job of raising Shiri to be the young lady that she is. But in fact, I thank her for much more than that. I thank her re-introducing me to the education system. To teachers who care, to teachers who love. To teachers who can truly say: this grown-up was my student, and be able to say it with pride, knowing that they really had part in shaping his or her personality.
Shiri wanted to express her gratitude to Miss Ruth. She was really at it for a while, until she had found the following poem, By Joanna Fuchs.
Dear miss Ruth
Teacher for All Seasons
A teacher is like Spring,
Who nurtures new green sprouts,
Encourages and leads them,
Whenever they have doubts.
A teacher is like Summer,
Whose sunny temperament
Makes studying a pleasure,
Preventing discontent.
A teacher is like Fall,
With methods crisp and clear,
Lessons of bright colors
And a happy atmosphere.
A teacher is like Winter,
While it’s snowing hard outside,
Keeping students comfortable,
As a warm and helpful guide.
Miss Ruth, you do all these things,
With a pleasant attitude;
You’re a teacher for all seasons,
And you have my gratitude!
You are the best Teacher in the whole world. Wherever I may go in my life, I will always remember you.
Shiri Hayardeny
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