Zachary, I read your post on teachers last night and wanted to post a comment but it was so late and I was very tired and because of that I waited till tonight to post a comment, not wanting to rush through it. Also gave me time to recall some of my “teacher experiences” from a student’s point of view. Here’s my take on the subject. I had lots of teachers from elementary school through Jr. College and even the U.S. Army. There were almost as many teaching styles as there were teachers. But some do still stand out in my memories for various reasons.> 3rd grade…Mrs. Welch a red haired Irish lady long deceased by now I’m sure. My 1st favorite teacher. She was kind and loving and treated all here students as if they were all her own kids. In fact she called us “her kids”. She was not strict and because we all loved and respected her we gave her 100% in the classroom. She made learning fun and even interesting. She was a good person even away from the classroom. I suppose what I’m getting at is that sometimes love and respect supplies its own kind of discipline for learning, and learning if you think about it a form of self discipline. Zooming forward to high school…Mrs. Torem. My senior English teacher. She was great, but she was hard and strict without beating you over the head with it. She pushed you…you can do this, you’re good at this, yes you can, you’re better than you think. She would make big circles around things you wrote. “Beautiful Ron, made me cry…but your punctuation makes for hard reading, work on this!” Stuff like…”I’ve got an A+ waiting for you but you’ve got to earn it!” Love and discipline all tossed together like a sald. I loved Mrs. Torem and I hugged her and cried when I said good-bye at Graduation. I worked hard for her and in so doing worked hard for myself. Then there was Sgt. Crosby, my basic traing drill instructor in the Army. You don’t normally regard these people as teachers but they are in a very srict sense. And yeah…you talk about strict, holly crap! We called him “Sgt Crosballs”. A meaner sob never lived. Hard ass all the way, in your face, no slack ever! But at our graduation ceremony he stood in front of the whole platoon with tears in his eyes and gave us a little speach. I still remember that speach. “You guys probably hate my guts, but I love you guys like my own sons and most of you will end up in The Nam. Thirty years from now when you’re humpin’ your grand-kids grandma you can thank me for teachin’ you to stay alive, and when you roll over and go to sleep you can say “thank you Sgt Crosby”. Now…if that ain’t a mixture of love and discipline I don’t know what is! Like everyone, teachers have all their own style, their own character and unique personality. I believe in discipline but without a nice sprinkling of love and mutual respect the learning experience will all be for nothing. I could go on but I have to go eat now, typing makes me hungry. Good-night everyone out there in Mixed Up Minds. Love ya all. Rondad
Teachers you remember August 9, 2006
Lately, Jenn and myself have been talking alot about teachers and different styles of teaching that are used. We talk about this because she is on the verge of being a teacher herself (YAY!). She tells me that there are other first year teachers that she has gotten to know at her school that seem to be very nice people. Some of these teachers have shared with her that they are determined to be failry strict in their teaching no matter what. This lead me to think of many teachers that I have gotten to know at the school I work at. Some of them are pretty strict as well and I know for a fact that those are the teachers that the majority of kids dislike. I know that sounds like something that goes with out saying, but think about it. Think about the teachers you liked and made an actuall difference to you. Were they the strict, my way or the high way, never crack a smile type or were they perhaps friendly and open, someone you might want to get to know?
When I think back to the teachers I respected and liked, it’s the teachers who seemed to want nothing more than to have me learn and enjoy it while I was doing so. Maybe it’s different for you. It is just hard for me to understand how acting mean and superior to the students seems like a good way to teach. It just makes me wonder why someone would want to be a teacher who spends most of the time disciplining and pointing out what the student has done wrong? Is that really something that sounds like you would want to do as a career? Is that why some people become teachers?
As most of you know, I am working on becoming a teacher and Jenn is already there. The one thing I know about us is, we see teaching as something that should be enjoyed and as a result, hopefully your students will enjoy learning from you. I have discovered that the best way to reach kids, at any age, is to relate to them. Find some common ground and they will respect you. Once you do that, The challenges become much less.
I know this seems more and more like some crazy rant and I guess it kind of is, but I really just wanted to know what you thought. Please comment to this post so we can share our stories of teachers.
Thanks!
Something that’s been bugging me August 9, 2006
So there are things that I find myself thinking about and having conversations with myself from time to time and then I wonder if anyone else feels the same way as I feel about whatever it is. Well tonight I was cleaning the kitchen counters and I was using 409 to do so. This particular bottle of 409 has been lingering around the house since possibly before we even moved in. As a result, it is just barely gone but still usable. So I am spraying the counter and sudedenly it starts foaming all over like a rabid dog as though it is empty. So I shake the bottle to check it’s level of goneness (real word?) and what happens? There is still some 409 left! I then proceed to use the method of holding the bottle as level and straight as possible so that maybe I can use the vast anount left. And it WORKS!! Well, it works for like a second, maybe less. Still determined not to waste any drop of this 409, I resort to rocking the bottle back and forth as I spray, completely losing my aim on the stain of spaghetti sauce on the stove, and still nothing but foam.
What could I do? I do the unspeakable and throw away the bottle and it’s vast contents!! As I throw it away I think to myself “We can walk on the moon but for some baffling reason, we can’t seem to design a freakin’ bottle of 409 that will suck up the last contents at the bottom of the bottle!”
I laugh at myself after making this absurd comment in my head because I realize that I have had that exact same thought for literally YEARS. Even as a little boy doing chores for me Mum I knew that there was something wrong with this picture.
So my point/question is….has this ever bothered you as it does me? Or am I just a lost soul, unable to find his way? Or maybe you know the secret! Do you know how to get that darn 409 to spray at the end?
At teh very least, please let me know if I truly am crazy. 
Hello Colorado August 3, 2006
Hi Y’all!
I hope this finds you each enjoying the start of a Thursday–I’ve been rather slackerish about posting/commenting lately, so I thought I’d say hello and share a few of my random highlights/bits of excitement from the last few days.
And, before I forget–Cody–I keep forgetting to send you the pictues, but I’ll try to do that ASAP! And, Zach, I’ll get the brewery pictures posted soon too–I’ve been using Mike’s scanner while he’s in Nicaragua, but it apparently needs a new ink cartridge before it will scan again (didn’t realize scanning required any ink), and I keep forgetting to get a new cartridge.
Ok. Back to other things…
So yesterday, my friend (and former roomie) Amity called and e-mailed me frantically, and I was rather worried that something horrid had happened. As it turned out, she’d just won tickets on the radio for a GooGoo Dolls/Counting Crows concert that evening and wanted to know if I’d want to go too. We were both so excited–a random, spontaneous adventure–across to the other side of New Hampshire to a little town named Gilford. Even Harry was excited and didn’t mind me leaving lab early! The concert was pretty fun–I think we were the oldest people with lawn tickets, but it was so much fun to be surrounded by an entire ampitheater full of people we didn’t know! It was Adam Duritz’ 42nd b-day, and he admitted he hadn’t been particularly happy about spending his b-day in the middle of nowhere–it’s funny hearing him tell stories–even his normal speech takes on a poetic quality and everything turns into a story. On the way home, we got rather lost (well, actually, we weren’t lost, but our “short cuts” ended up tacking on an extra hour to the trip), but all in all, it was a grand adventure! Amity had never been to a concert before, so she couldn’t stop beaming! I think I need to get a tatoo though–I think I was the only one in the entire theater without one! (Even the very mild Amity has a butterfly!)
After I got home, I got ready for bed, climbed in and realized I’d forgotten to take out my contacts. I opened my bedroom door and was surprised by the sound of scampering feet. My first thought was that it was a mouse, but then I realized the sound was coming from the ceiling panels above my head. I froze. And then the scampering froze. And then it started again and I realized there are several rather large gaps/vents cut into the ceiling. As soon as I moved again, the sound stopped, so I dashed for the bathroom, only to find the biggest vent yet right above my head–and I could hear the scampering move to just above me again. In my panic, I pulled out my contacts as fast as I could, then dashed back to the bedroom. I just didn’t want anything to fall through and be running around the apt! To make matters worse, I’d cooked dinner for Aime, Amity & Chris on Monday and hadn’t yet done the dishes, so there was plenty of food remnants to entice a hungry visitor downward. Anyone who knows me knows I sleep more often than not with the light on, so last night was no exception! Fortunately, after searching my bedroom ceiling, I found there weren’t any vents in the room and I settled in to try and sleep while the scamperer had its way with the rest of the apartment. I eventually fell asleep, only to be waken some time later by the scampering (again above my head)–but this time, each little shuffle was accompanied by a short stump. It was way too loud (and wrong rhythm) for a mouse, so my best guess is my guest was A) a squirrel B) a rat C) a chipmunk (or D), a very big, uncoordinated mouse). After finally falling asleep again, by the time morning arrived (about 1 hour later), the sounds had died down. I cautiously opened my bedroom door, hesitated, then dashed to the bathroom, trying to scan my abode at every corner. Happily, I found myself alone. I just hope I don’t get any more visitors tonight!
Ok. Sorry to ramble–it’s just that rambling is natural Susie form!
I hope you’re each doing well–it was so great to see everyone!
Take care and Happy Thursday!
SusQ
August 2, 2006
Hello Stacy…sorry we didn’t get to see you last weekend and help you celebrate your 20th birthday. We did think about you believe me. Did see your photo of you in the Kimono. You were very beautiful! Looking forward to seeing you and hearing all about your trip and visit to Japan. Good to have you back. Byeeeeeeee for now.
Love ya
Ron
