When my grandmother was a teacher, things were different. Solidarity took on a whole new meaning come spring break. Hundreds of teachers from this little pocket in southeastern Michigan packed up their mini-vans and left their typewriters and chalkboards behind for golf, glory and sand dollars, in Gulf Shores, Alabama. I’m pretty sure the tradition still carries on, and my mostly fond memories (all but the time my dog, Stormy, died) of that beachy southern getaway remind me of how cool it must have been to be an educator in the eighties.
Grandma Ann spent fifteen years as a beloved elementary principal and decades in the classroom. Other than teaching me how to read and introducing me to my love for creative writing, she was my first true role model. She read nonstop and I don’t think she ever quit a book before the finale. It’s funny what stands out from your childhood. She also never folded in poker. One thing’s for sure, Grandma Ann valued perseverance. As a kid I wasn’t allowed to give up and as a grown teacher I wasn’t either.
Sharing the torch with Grandma Ann, my aunt Laurie showed me what kind of educator I wanted to be. Like a second mom, she introduced me to the behind the scenes world of teaching. And like most kids, you think teachers just sleep under their desks and lunch ladies make them pancakes for breakfast. Do teachers really have lives outside of school?
Watching my aunt interact with staff, students and parents over time, I realized how much relationships matter, in education. Yeah, I knew relationships were important, but her success in her 42 years in education was due to her emphasis on building strong relationships in the school communities she served. Aunt Laurie retired last week, and do you know what everyone commented on in her farewell montage? Relationships. She valued her people and valued relationships. This woman’s accomplishments are remarkable, and in the end, they remembered this one thing.
Numerous phone calls to Aunt Laurie in my career, was joined with a handful of standout mentors that changed me. Too many to mention here.
Grace who knew me at a dark time in my life-listened, rationalized and let me cry about personal struggles many times, before walking into lead a teacher-packed PD. As my mentor, she knew how to read me, probably like she read her students in her teaching days. If I needed a pep talk or a listening ear or a shared story, whatever, she made it happen. From that point, when I found myself in mentor roles, I remembered how much I needed someone to read me. It’s hard to compartmentalize life sometimes; teachers need to feel like that’s okay.
Then there was John-the Robin Williams or Steve Harvey of math teachers. Nineties dance moves, rapping, celebrity impersonations, theatrical reenactments, you name it. Lucky he was my coach, since I was about to teach middle school math as a certified English teacher, and it truly would be entertaining to watch. John took student engagement to a whole new level, but as my coach, it always boiled down to one thing...real-world engagement. If the kids couldn’t connect, there was no point in teaching; that was his philosophy. He pushed me to make a fool of myself in the name of engagement, and to aim to think like a kid when planning lessons. John was right, students remember what’s meaningful. And fun!
Today, I have a little piece of my role models’ teaching styles and philosophies in me. In my early teaching years, though, I was still “finding myself.” As I grew and failed, took risks and celebrated successes, I eventually developed my own teaching identity.
Back then, I wished someone would’ve told me that you can’t just replicate your role models’ actions. I wished it were that easy. (So did my coaches). Observing, listening and reflecting matched with never-ending questions and deep discussions with my mentors helped me mold into my own version of my best teaching self. It also allowed me to own it. I wasn’t being them, I was being me.
If Grandma Ann were here today, she would tell me the same thing she did when I was six, and twelve and nineteen years old. Be yourself. Be humbled and learn from your role models, but be yourself.
Power to the teacher.
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