Middle school is an awkward time in everyone's life, no matter how cool or popular you were. In 7th grade I was a bookworm. I loved going to school to learn and I was secretly obsessed with period movies and novels (i.e. the Jane Austen type, but my absolute favorite was
The Importance of Being Earnest).
I remember my 7th grade English teacher very well. She was an older lady, widowed and loved her craft of teaching. She came to school everyday with jet black hair. Her gray roots would peak through every couple of months and then magically disappear again. She wore it in a short bowl-cut inspired hair do with bangs across the top. She wore thick-rimed glasses that were always perched on the bridge of her nose, teetering as if they were about to fall off, especially when she was getting excited and animated about a certain concept. Her glasses were never without their eyeglass cord, which were connected on each ear piece just in case they fell off her nose during one of these exciting times. She always wore long eccentric skirts paired with a solid top to match. She was dramatic and over the top and although many of my peers hated her class and poked fun at her appearance, I loved her! I was too embarrassed to admit that though.
I can only distinctly remember two experiences I had whilst in her class. The first was that we would often have silent reading time and had the opportunity to choose a book of our own picking. She had a small classroom library, but encouraged us to bring books from home. Once I brought
Pride and Prejudice to read and she pulled me aside, told me it was a wonderful book choice but was concerned that it was too difficult of a book for a 7th grader to read. She asked me if I needed any help understanding it or if there was someone at home who could help me. I was slightly offended that she didn't know me well enough as her student to realize that I
could understand it, but to reassure her I told her my mom and I had been watching to movies together at home.
The second thing that I remember is a writing assignment she had us do in class. We were working on prepositions and she planned an interesting lesson where we all wrote a paper (or paragraph) about bikes, but the catch was each sentence had to begin with a preposition and each sentence had to go in ABC order. So for instance it could say: "
Aboard my new gleaming bicycle, I went on many biking trips with my father.
Beyond the horizon we would often see beautiful sunsets.
Concerning these times, we would stop and enjoy the splashes of color across the evening sky . . . etc." I loved this assignment and went straight to work! She had a few of us share ours aloud to the class and I, who was still overcoming my timidity, was asked to share mine aloud because she thought mine was brilliant! I remember her telling me to read it several times as an example, even when other teachers or administrators walked past our door, She would stop them and make them come in to listen to me read it. I remember thinking mine wasn't particularly amazing, but her encouragement and enthusiasm boosted my confidence and made me realize how much I really did love English!
These memories just popped into my mind this afternoon, probably because now I'm a teacher and I was planning my writing time for this next week. Granted I spend my days with 7 year old's and not 7th graders, but it's funny how one thing can spark an entire memory.
It's kind of funny because, for the life of me I can't recall my 7th grade teacher's name . . .
P.S. Here is a writing sample from one of my student's. So precious.
Translation: "I am in 2 grade room 185. I like to draw. I like to learn and read and I like my tieacher and she is nise and the clas room looks nise and she helps us."
Several times this week I have had to stop and say, "Did I really just teach a day of school?! Am I really a teacher?!" It's pretty crazy.
