Over the years, I have had something of an amateur-like fascination with languages. Used my high school French as entree into a college minor in French. And I even taught French I and II at the high school level for a couple of years. In graduate school, I learned enough Spanish to pass an open-dictionary test to satisfy the language requirement. I had already more than met my linguistic match with Koine Greek while in seminary at Duke , having made a kind of 'bargain' with the Holy One: get me out with a 'gentleman's C' and Iwill never tempt You like this again.
Now, some 56 years later, I am slowly learning German via an internet app. Already, I knew a few essential phrases such as 'Ich habe hunger' = I'm hungry. While I will never have the felicity with the language that my son-in-law has, 'progress' is occurring enough that I am enjoying the challenge.
But it is a language not specific to any geographic region that I am finding most daunting... it's the vocabulary of electronic technology.
It all began in a rather mundane manner. We had decided to move into another level of 'tekkydom'. The price for the item was 'right' ; but when the technician came to install, we learned that our current internet modem did not have enough gig speed to transmit the signal. A call to the provider revealed that they were unable to ( what else ?) provide sufficient speed to meet our need. So, I used my search engine to find another provider to
upgrade the service, including the retention of our land line number.
The technician who came today was patient, thorough and in all ways, knowledgeable. When he left, the internet, the modem, television, and phone lines were all operational. We did learn, however, that one tv channel for which we had received assurance would be available is not ! In the meantime, the low charge that was on batteries expired and they have just now been brought back to full capacity.
Soon after his departure, the telephone service played 'hide and seek'. We could call out but for incoming calls, there were rings but no connectivity.
Keeping our fingers crossed that the signal for the internet service continues to work. When we press the power button on the tv remote, a blue light comes on at the cable box ... but noting else happens. Yet another call to tech support and the promise that they had an open order for someone to come back. It is now after 8 pm. and no one has come.
Many times over the past few years, I have expressed my lack of knowledge in the field of computers by writing 'ain't tekknolodgie wunnerful !'.
With today's aggravations, I seem to be remembering language whose use in my youth would have incurred parental reprimand.
From a former intern I learned a very useful computer method for expressing the condition: "Beetle Bailey cuss-words", such as
^%$&((#@$#&))@@!!##.
Satchel
Have you ever been a teacher?
Had a great teacher?
Had a bad teacher ?
And, if you are of 'a certain age', had a 'paddling' by a school teacher ? (Full disclosure, since I am 'of the age', and my parents [who promised one at home if there were one at school] are now deceased and unable to fulfill their promise: I had two such encounters in grammar school. ) But those are other matters, best left untold. Although, Charles Hobby, you were implicated in one of those when we were in Mrs. McManus's first grade.
And, there was a musical ditty: "Reading and writing and 'rithmatic, taught to the tune of a hickory stick . . ."
Well, this has been National Teachers' Week. And there are college/university graduations all around. So, remembering teachers (excellent and otherwise) from my school years as well as those years when my wife and I were each teachers has been an exercise in nostalgia and gratitude.
On occasion, I have been called a packrat who retains all kinds of detritus from by-gone times. I prefer thinking of myself as an archivist. At any rate, somewhere in the archives are all my report cards from grades 1-12. Seeing the names of those long ago teachers (mostly women) provides appreciation for those who conveyed more than just their subject matters. I know . . . naming names can be problematic: why are some included and others omitted. And, in truth, a few of them are now more appreciated than they were when I was in their classrooms.
A brief 'roll call' of my public school teachers:
.Mrs. Smithwick whose pedagogical method for learning math in 3d grade was rote repetition thereby often eliminating my need for a calculator in simple math.
.Mrs. Campbell who taught us in 8th grade the then-revolutionary truth that women had their own names and were not 'Mrs. John Doe',etc.
.A gigantic name-unknown 'practice teacher' (as they were then called) from Duke who read to us in his quasi-British accent Kipling's Gunga Din. The take-away for my 9th grade self was that males could like poetry. A 'big deal' in the early 1950's.
.Mrs. Yates, my 11th and 12th grades English teacher deepened my appreciation for literature. We read Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and MacBeth among other 'classics'. Does that happen in high school now? I don't know. She also drilled us in the fundamentals of English grammar. Did you diagram sentences?
.Coach Blankenship . He taught French I and II, Physics, Chemistry, PE, and coached all the athletic teams. He was not my favorite teacher at the time but I have come to value the academic excellence he expected.
When I taught high school History and French in the mid-1960's,
my annual salary was approximately $4200. In today's dollars, public school teachers do not fare better. And, there is the public misperception that teachers work only nine or ten months a year with a subsequent 'vacation' of two or three months. For those who opt for monthly increments of their annual salaries, that division lessens the already problematic budget. The others often must find supplemental summer work (if not already doing so during the school year). In our state one consequence of the salary inadequacy has been a teacher flight to other states. And the state legislature has done away with pay grade promotion for teachers with graduate degrees.
And, the profession is not an 8-5 occupation ! One of my college professors rightly observed that "a teacher's work is never done, never done." You know, things like lesson plans, grading tests, the pressure of end-of-grade exams, endless forms and paperwork that consume many hours away from the school house.
A co-ed a couple of years younger than I went to California upon graduation and taught high school English before 'making it in the Big Time' as a singer. At one of her early concerts, a former student held up a huge banner proclaiming that " NAME learned me English !"
Were you helped, encouraged, guided by a teacher? Has your life had a different trajectory because of a teacher's influence? If so, please pass it on . . . whether or not you are a 'professional educator'.
Satchel
