Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts

Thursday, August 6, 2015

The Standout Teacher


When I was in high school a long, long time ago, I had the honor of having a couple of teachers who stood out from the rest.  Yes, these teachers were getting paid to teach, but they had also made it their mission to make a difference in children’s lives. While I can pinpoint the contributions each of these teachers worked so tirelessly to make, there was one who was a force to be reckoned with. She was a hard taskmaster and she did not accept halfhearted attempts at homework.

Mrs. Betty Stapleton

She was known for prodding, pushing, and shoving you, kicking and screaming if need be, into digging deeper inside of yourself. She was the teacher that when you picked up your class schedule and you saw her name, you would groan at what was to come. When your friends saw whose class you had been placed in, they would pat you on the back while telling you everything would be okay.

She was Mrs. Betty Stapleton, an English teacher on a mission to educate above and beyond the norm. On the first day of class, your fears were realized. She threw down the gauntlet and challenged you before the class roll was ever called.

Her goal was to challenge you to think beyond the printed words on a page. If, in a piece of literature, there was a scent described, she wanted you to be able to smell it. If there was an emotion, she wanted you to feel it. And if there was a noise, you were to hear it.

To this day I can hear her reading Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” to our class. The way she read the poem made it come to life. It was no longer a required assignment with weird, old world language we were being forced fed. It became a fascinating piece of literature which drew us into its rhyming stanzas and dramatic prose.

Mrs. Stapleton not only drew us into the world of classical literature, she also taught us to reach deep within our souls when we wrote our own essays. It definitely was no easy task for her to try and get me, a guarded redhead, to dig deep and open up my soul for others to see.

Her words of encouragement were very uplifting, but she utterly flabbergasted me when she told me she enjoyed reading my written work. It was the first time a teacher had ever told me they enjoyed my work. I, an overly verbose redhead with a relatively poor grasp of grammar, was left speechless. Her class was one of the hardest I have ever taken, and yet the most rewarding.

The level of encouragement she provided saw me through my college years and sticks with me to this day. While looking for a way to contact her to thank her, I discovered she passed away in 2002. I did not even consider this possibility when I began my search and was surprised at how sad I felt when I made the discovery. I wish I could thank her personally for her tireless dedication and for making an imprint on my soul, but I waited too long.

Do you have a teacher who lit a spark within you? Someone who went above and beyond the norm? I would love to hear your stories! If you have ever felt the desire to let that special teacher know how big of a difference they made in your life, don't wait.  Let them know now.


Christie Bielss

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Memory Lane

As my children get older and I see them interacting with their grandparents, I stroll back in time to my childhood.  I loved my grandparents dearly and looking back at the time and energy they spent to teach me about life means more to me today than it did back then.

Grandmother, Mimi, Grandfather, Pawpaw, Papaw

Even though my grandparents have passed away, lately there have been many times when I can almost sense their approving presence.  Usually it's when either myself or my parents are in the middle of teaching my children something which has been handed down through the generations when the feeling becomes strong. 

There have been times when I thought if I turned my head, I might actually see them looking over my shoulder.  There have been other times when I can almost hear their voice and feel their touch as they instructed me so many years ago.  It is in these times when I feel so blessed to have had them in my life for the time God allowed them to be here on earth, and yet sad they aren't still here.

All of those years they lovingly schooled me in what they'd learned from their parents and grandparents.  There are many times when I wish I had listened more closely and asked more questions.  To have learned more tricks to sewing (like how to actually sew a straight line) from both my maternal and paternal grandmothers would be of such benefit to me today.  Oh, to have the opportunity to watch my maternal grandmother make her infamous gumbo just one more time would be the cat's meow.

I wish I would have appreciated my maternal grandfather more as he baited my fishing hooks when we'd go out fishing together.  Baiting hooks and tying hooks onto fishing line is definitely an artform.

 To have been granted much more time with my paternal grandfather is something I've longed for since he passed away when I was just 8 years old.  He was also a photography buff and oh the things I might have learned from him.  My memories with him though are of games, and tickles, and lots of horsing around.

As I look back through my life up until today, I think of all the people and experiences who have influenced me and made me the person I am today.  Unlike many who profess they are "self-made" men or women, I'm definitely not one of them.

No, I believe my life is a compilation of all those who have taken the time to be a part of my life.  When my grandparents were teaching me the things they knew, they were imparting a piece of them into me.  As I have grown up and matured, I have become like a puzzle whose pieces have fused together and created the zany, serious, introspective, light-hearted, God-fearing, crazy redhead I am today.  And I pray that I pass on a little bit of each one of them on to my children......

by:  Christie Bielss