Aug 25 2008
Teachers - Past in Polaroids 3
In honor of Back-to-School (which finally, oh mah holy hell, y’all is next Tuesday here in Michigan), I want to share a picture of two very important women in my life.
Mrs. R (the tall redhead on my right) was my first grade teacher. Mrs. M (holding the little blond boy, who happened to belong to Mrs. R) was my kindergarten teacher. I was getting ready for my Freshman year in high school when this picture was taken.*
Mrs. M was a student-teacher during my kindergarten year. She taught us duck-duck-goose and she played piano while we sang. She sat us all down for circle time and listened while all of the girls answered the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” with “A Teacher.” We loved her. Soft spoken and oh-so-pretty, what we really wanted was to BE HER when we grew up.
Mrs. R started teaching in 1969. We were her first class; me and 20-something other 5- and 6- year olds. Big first graders, learning colors and shapes and how to read. We had three reading groups (unknown to us, of course, was that those reading groups were ranked by “ability to read”…we just thought she came up with cool group names) - Lions, Tigers and Bears. I was a Tiger - the most advanced reading group - shy though, and quiet.
Somehow, Mrs. R found out that she lived down the street from my Grandmother. I remember stopping by her apartment and meeting the man she would marry over Christmas vacation. We all had to learn how to say her very long, very Polish last name when January found us back in school. That name could have been a spelling test all by itself!
Mrs. R and her husband moved out of the apartment by my Grandma’s house, so we didn’t get to visit except that one time. The school year ended, and I was afraid I’d never see Mrs. R again. One summer day, though, she sent an invitation to my house. Could my mother and I come to lunch? Just us. No other students - no other mothers. OMG - here it is, nearly 40 years later, and I remember what we ate. Tuna fish sandwiches (with cut up celery in it! I felt so fancy!) and potato chips. For dessert, 7 Layer Cookie Bars. Her cat played in a paper bag.
My brother, two years later, was in the last class she taught at that school. She was pregnant with the first of her three children and in 1970 - she quit teaching. I felt sorry for all of the kids who wouldn’t get to have her for a teacher.
Mrs. R (and Mrs. M) instilled in me a love of learning, an appreciation for the written word, the ability to lose myself in a good book. I felt like I was important to her; I knew she was important to me. I wanted her to know that I valued my education - and tried to live up to the potential she believed I had.
We kept in touch - regular notes, letters, cards. Both Mrs. R and Mrs. M attended my wedding when I married Practice.
During the first five years I was in West-by-gawd-Virginia, our writing dwindled to notes at Christmas. After Practice and I divorced, I didn’t send cards - and hers didn’t reach me.
After Mr. Hot, Shortman and I moved back to Michigan, I called Mrs. R to see if we could meet for lunch - just like before. When she answered, she told me that her marriage had just broken up, but please, please come see her. Back to that same house where she’d first fed me tuna fish sandwiches, to the house we posed in for that Polaroid up there - I took Shortman. He was thrilled to meet her “ugliest dog in the world” - an overweight Bassett Hound with the crookedest teeth I’d ever seen.
We haven’t missed a Christmas card greeting since then. She remarried. Her children graduated (her oldest from Medical School), married and had children of their own.
So, imagine my surprise when, a few months ago, I received a “We’ve Moved!” card from her. She had gone back into teaching (first grade!); she and her husband had decided to buy a condo rather than fool with a yard.
I looked at the address. I went to M@pquest. I picked up the phone and called her.
“Okay, M”, I said (I get to call her by her first name now, but oh mah holy hell, it’s hard!). “I just got your card, did you really move? I’ve had your address committed to memory since I was 7!”
She laughed. “Yes! Can you believe it? I lived there for so long!”
“I know! But did you know that we live about six miles from each other now?”
After an hour of conversation and laughs and “No ways” and “Oh mah gawds”, it was time to hang up.
“We’ll have to get together for lunch sometime.” “Oh, absolutely!” We each promised.
I think it’s sometime. I need to make a phone call and make plans to treat M to a tuna sandwich at this homestyle restaurant mid-way between our homes. School is getting ready to start again - and she’ll have a new batch of 6 year olds to deal with. I wonder if she’ll have a tall-ish, shy-ish, green-eyed girl who loves to read among them?
—- *And y’all? Please, please, please. Do yourselves a favor. Do your children a favor. DATE your freakin’ photographs. None of these are dated and I’m left trying to figure out when I wore those glasses…how old my sister (of the long dark hair up there) was, when I had that particular sweater. When I was that damn skinny. Sigh. —-
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I know! I have recently told my own dear mither to Please! go through all the family photos and put names and dates on them all. She is kind of the family historian and has scads of photos that go back as far as the 1800’s. She wasn’t there, but she knows, secondhand, who most of the people are.
I wish I remembered more about my childhood. I can barely remember being 7 and 8, I’ve got no idea who my teachers were. That head injury thing really took a chunk out of my life. I envy you being able to have a relationship with someone that helped shape who you now are from so long ago. OH! did I say “SO LONG ago”? I meant a few years ago! Yeah! That’s what I meant!
Krissa’s last blog post..Technical Updates and an Invasion!!
Teachers have such a powerful place in a child’s life. That’s why I got the Hell out of Dodge the instant I realized it wasn’t for me.
It’s so lovely that you’ve been able to connect with someone so special. Enjoy your tuna sandwich.
Pamela’s last blog post..encyclopedia o-tannica
I would love love love for one of my mom’s old students to come back and get in touch with her. She’s in the same house.
I see one of my teachers at church every Sunday..somehow she looks 30 years old, which isn’t possible I know.
One of my “main” teachers died a few years back..he was SO important to me and my love for history and maps…OMG I love maps. His name was Mr Lazarri. He told me the last time I saw him that I could call him Tony..nope..couldn’t do it. I thanked him thought..and I’m so glad I did!
mp’s last blog post..Sunrise
Awesome that you still are in contact. Indeed, teachers to leave an imprint on the lives of many children, I hope they stop and remember that on a regular basis. It could make a big difference in the path someone may take.
And I agree, date the pics!
Nancy’s last blog post..Evolution of the Wedding Dance
I still remember all of my grade school and junior high teachers. I couldn’t name one from high school, college or law school though.
Shania’s last blog post..Weekly Update
I recall one of my teachers at school (whose surname was Smith), once writing a huge long string of gibberish on the blackboard. She got us all to say it. The most I could manage was Luscia. It was her name.
All this time, we’d been thinking she was an Olde Worlde English schoolmarm, and it turns out she has this exciting past, including her parents being in Auschwitz. She’s one of the very few teachers I miss from High School.
Solomon’s last blog post..Things I’m Grateful For on Monday 25 August
I am still in touch with my high school history teacher. That woman was a driving force in my high school years and helped keep me from falling off a metaphorical ledge.
I keep in touch with a number of members of my AP US History class because we all keep in touch with her. She retired a few years ago, and it’s sad to think she won’t be whipping freshman and juniors into shape anymore, but then you consider all the lives she has touched.
We were all bummed a few weeks ago when she sent out an e-mail that her father had passed away. Once you got to know Duke, you inevitably got to know her family. And her parents, who had just celebrated 60 years of marriage, were equally spirited and encouraging.
Teaching is one of those very unglorified or respected professions that can literally change the course of someone’s life.
I think it’s wonderful that you have been able to stay in touch with your teacher. My undergraduate literature professor was my Mrs. M. We kept in touch for many years after my graduation. I was really sad to hear that she had died. This post has kick started my goal to write to all the teachers I remember who had an influence on my life and thank them.
Dingo’s last blog post..I’ll Give You Descriptive Language!
I have the same outfit, only with a cowl neck instead of a turtleneck. And I think mine was wine colored.
Sigh.
And you know we thought we looked fabulous.
Kudos for keeping in touch with your teacher for as long as you did.
Oh yes on the dates and names - we have a family bible with many old photos from 80-100 years ago of - people. Who we are related to. Don’t know who.
Loved your story - my favourite all time teachers are the ones I get to see too rarely at reunions.
My unfavouritist principle is at a nursing home in the town I now live - I still haven’t been to see her (although I “should”)
jeanie’s last blog post..The Best Laid Plans
Of all the people who had a positive influence in my life, teachers, certain teachers, rank right up there. And? A very few of my youngest’s teachers. Awesome.
witchypoo’s last blog post..Home Again
True wisdom there.
amanda’s last blog post..What’s dat? What’s dat?
I wish I could say I kept in touch with my teachers. But I haven’t. Without a connection like the one of which you spoke, it’s easy to continue to be that student in class who does their best to blend in to the background - even 18 years after graduation.
Lovely story! Enjoy that tuna sandwich.
Tuli’s last blog post..A bit of craft, a bit of Britain, and a bit of fun
I LOVE that! I haven’t kept in touch with a single (nun) who taught me in Catholic school (hell). Ever.
And for the photo dating - SERIOUSLY. My mother has been trying to organize photos from 3 generations prior to her. On my DADS side. She’s not even RELATED to these people genetically. Certifiable!
Chris’s last blog post..“Swanky!” which now translates as…..
What a beautiful post! I hope you DO have lunch with her. That is so special. I’ve often thought of teachers I’d like to thank for making me think, making me work hard to get what I wanted.
I have turned on the “date” feature on my digital camera. I realize that it’s not creating gallery worthy photos, but by-gawd I HATE sitting around trying to figure out when pictures were taken. I want to see it right there in front of me.
Hyphen Mama’s last blog post..White Trash Air Travel
I love that story - how incredible that you are still ‘around’ each other, if you will. Oh, and at this point, gotta love digital for the dates of a photo - but I totally know what you mean about “our” photos!
Wbppsh7’s last blog post..OMG - We all made it?
That’s so awesome Ree….what a wonderful relationship!!!!! Teachers can be very very special people in a child’s life…especially the shy and quiet ones…
Carrie’s last blog post..Family Pictures and an Anniversary Celebration.
First, I swear I owned that same plaid shirt - serious. Second (and more importantly) what a great tribute to what sounds like a wonderful woman. I moved so many times that I never truly felt connected to a community OR a specific teacher. It wasn’t until High School that I began to realize the impact a good teacher can have.
I LOVE your Polaroid posts.
Jenny’s last blog post..4:15 p.m. Sunday
My first grade teacher frequently got married. I saw her a while back, and she was like, “so what was my last name when I taught you, anyway?” True story. Great photo, by the way.
Shamelessly Sassy’s last blog post..Vocabulary Violation
It’s always nice when someone can look back fondly on their previous school teachers. Unfortunately, most of my teachers tended to be tyranical.
Awww…so sweet. I’d love to go back and see some old teachers. You should print out this post and let Mrs. M read it. What a lovely post.
Shelly’s last blog post..Happy Monday
If I were to run into one of my old teachers, they’d probably drop dead from shock that I’m not in prison.
I wasn’t a very good student, and grade school in Detroit was not exactly a conducive environment to learning. It would be fun to run into one of my high school or junior high teachers just to let them know that I actually DIDN’T end up in prison.
Loved this story, I think it’s awesome that you keep in touch with your teacher.
Kat’s last blog post..The Vise-Grip of Memory