On the Subject of Teachers

It is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken
joy in creative expression and knowledge.

- Albert Einstein

As a college freshman, I struggled to succeed in my classes. What I had excelled at in high school was now a challenge. I was especially discouraged by my grades on writing assignments. Class after class, paper after paper, I received mediocre or poor grades. The entire first term I was frustrated with myself and with school. I felt woefully ill-prepared for college. I muddled on and eventually found myself in Intro to Microeconomics with an infamous Professor Azzi. His reputation had preceded him -- between the Azzi legends and the syllabus, I was overwhelmed. Economics had always intrigued me, but by this time I knew intrigue wasn't enough. I was going to have to prove myself and that meant writing some decent papers.

When my first paper was returned, I was horrified. I had earned a C-. Worse was the fact that my paper looked like Jack-the-Ripper had graded it. Red lines through entire sentences, grammatical corrections, and notes in the corners, made my paper look like a ritual blood letting. Worse was the No! No! No! written in response to the conclusion I had drawn. Ugh. As hard as it was to read the comments and accept the grade, I was determined to get through the class. I loved the subject and I was beginning to enjoy this bear of a professor that seemed to intimidate so many.

I turned in my second paper. I received a C and no fewer bleeding comments. I mustered up the courage while writing my third paper and dropped into his office. I thought, perhaps, that he would spend a few minutes and help me refine my rough draft. I was wrong. A few minutes turned into an hour, lots of chalk and legal paper, more red pen on my paper, and a few good laughs. I left his office determined to do better. And I did.

Over the next three years, I continued to shadow Azzi's door. He was always available. I often struggled with concepts, but he was always encouraging and insisted that I could comprehend even the most difficult ideas. I slowly gained confidence in what was now my major and the ability to put together thoughts on paper. My papers bled less over time and I knew that the Yes! scribbled in the margin was well earned. To this day I am grateful for all that he did to help me. He was a great teacher and advisor. I am privileged to know him as a friend, as well as his wife, Jane. They both continue to be a great encouragement to me, even in this current season of uncertainty.

My days of being a student are gone. I now get to enjoy watching my kids forge relationships with their teachers. We have been so blessed by all the teachers the kids have had. I love watching my kids delight in what they learn, curiosity fed by teachers that love to teach.

The boys had the opportunity to be in Mrs. Fosters third grade class last year. In hindsight, it was God's perfect timing. Not only did she engage the boys and direct their curiosity, she dealt with their sorrow and concern over their dad. She consistently prayed with them and for us. She kept the boys focused and engaged on what needed to be done in school, but did it with compassion and understanding for what they were experiencing personally. She helped Adam and Ben navigate a very difficult time in their lives.

Over the months, I had the opportunity to talk at length with Mrs. Foster. Sometimes about the boys, but often about Marc and our family. I have found her wisdom and faith a comfort and encouragement. As the school year ended and summer began, we invited her to help us with our garden. We spent weekend days planting and weeding, picking, and enjoying each other's company. She and her husband, Steve, have become wonderful friends. They have watched the kids so Marc and I could get away, we have enjoyed meals together...just visiting and laughing. I love watching all my kids delight in the activities they come up with and the neat ways that they engage the kids in learning. What a gift!

Today Mrs. Foster watched the boys for the day so that I could go to chemo with Marc. When we picked them up this afternoon they were so excited to tell us all they had done. She had spent the day delighting them -- movies, hamburgers, walks to the park, board games. This evening as I tucked Adam in he said quietly, "Mom, I didn't want to leave today. I had so much fun. It felt like I was leaving family."

I know that Mrs. Foster will leave a lasting impression on my children, just as Professor Azzi left a lasting impression on me. It is not understanding the Giffin paradox or aggregate supply and demand that I associate with my professor. And, it is not nouns or the multiplication tables that have most impressed my boys. I have no doubt we will retain what we learned in their classrooms; however, I would wager that these teachers have left a more important legacy with their students: One of friendship, encouragement, and inspiration.

Thank you, Professor Azzi. Thank you, Mrs. Foster.
With love and gratitude...

P.S. My friend, Liz, sent a link to this story about her dad. Another story of how a student was profoundly impacted by a teacher. Enjoy.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-stroke-teacher-student-31-aug31,0,5182203.story?page=1&track=rss