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The mark of the teacher

During our life, we have at least one teacher that marks us for good. I’ve had teachers that liked what they did. And those who didn’t. Those who would give bad marks so people would fear them and learn more. Those who weren’t quite right in the head. Those I respected. Those I didn’t.

For as long as I remembered I had good teachers. In first grade, my first teacher was kind and always helpful. I remember her almost as motherly with us. Or maybe it’s because I only remember the good parts. I liked all fields, but I guess I was good at math while others weren’t. And teachers took a liking to kids who were better. Or tried to be.

I loved my 1st-grade teacher for believing in me and always trying to make me better. Moving me into the same bench with the cutest girl in the class didn’t hurt. Even as a little kid, I was always chasing girls. Too bad I was also shy.

I was a good student so teachers always liked me. The English teacher who asked me what music I liked. I only told her what I didn’t like. The french one who was kind of annoyed with me. She was always wearing short dresses. She had red hair and all boys were losing their minds around her. For some strange reason, I didn’t.

The electronics teacher who was kind and friendly and got all curious to see the practical application of theory. He even introduced us to Star Wars as a Sunday movie projection and we weren’t the same afterward. The info teacher who also showed me a different side to computers, the games. Need I say more.

The sports teachers who saw that what I lacked in the body strength I had in mind power and determination. When I put my mind into it. The swimming teacher who taught I was ready to swim by myself. But there was still a long road ahead. The football coach who shown me what a life of a football player would look like but I wasn’t really a team player. I was more into the beauty of the game and interested in controlling the ball as best I could. While the others seemed to be more into screaming and fighting to get the ball.

The karate teacher that made me leave because I was laughing too much on the sides when I tried to see what it was all about. I was watching too many karate movies at that time and the actual sport is a lot different. The math teacher who gave me my first 4 grade and forced me into becoming the best in the class by the end of high school.

The drunk teacher of chemistry who knew not many people would go on this path and would just let us do whatever after half of his class. The psychics’ teacher that was a real badass. But whom most kids loved. Even if he was tough with us and would subtract 1 point out of the grade for each mistake we made. Yeah, some of us got below 0 a few times…

The crazy logic teacher who would have us memorize her lessons word by word…you either got a 10 or you would fail. There is a life lesson in that too.

Thinking about it I had a lot of teachers and a lot of them I remember fondly. My son will have a lot of them and I hope he meets (mostly) the good ones.

What about you, did you have any teacher that you still remember fondly?

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7 thoughts on “The mark of the teacher

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  1. Seems like so long ago now, but since I’ve been through the school of hard knocks since then, I’d say that trying to extract the lessons the bad teachers or the hard times were trying to teach us is difficult, but unless we do, then we may be destined to repeat those times unless we can pull the lessons from them. Then we get to move forward to the next level!

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  2. I substituted grades K- 12 one Semester. Then I took a fourth grade class, and taught 5th grade the next year. I know teachers. Some are excellent, and others give the same lesson plan every year. Teachers study rain, or shine, and prepare their lesson plans weekly. There is much that no one sees in how they prepare for class.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m sure there’s a lot of work done behind the curtains. But more than that, it feels to me like some of the people have a real calling for teaching.


      1. Yes, I have met several who had a calling to teach. I was one. I knew by the time I was eleven, that I would teach some day. I went to Bible School instead, thinking that I would be a missionary. That didn’t work, because I was in trouble for nothing. They were too, strict. The Dean said to me, “Is there anything else God has called you to do besides being a missionary?” I told her about my call to teach. She said, “You are not going to be here any more. You should go get certified, and become a teacher. ” I did. She spoke hard words, but she is the reason I sought Education as a major, and became a classroom teacher.

        Liked by 1 person

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