It was my eighth-grade English teacher who first took time to tell me in a way that got through, that I had done a nice job on a short fictional essay and why she liked it. Up until that point I just dashed off English assignments mechanically and took my good grades without a second thought, like a page of math exercises. She made me realize that written works have an audience and deserve craftsmanship. Thanks, Mrs. Burke, wherever you are.
You should hate that teacher for misguiding you into a worthless "career". Good thing you have your trust fund to to finance your lazy marxist "journalist" life since "writing" for the Stranger pays less than jack shit.
That was beautiful, Charles. Being able to be generous with others, while getting nothing in return...? And for me, too, the adults other than family who made the biggest impression on me were teachers.
If it hadn't been for a college professor asking me the right question at precisely the right moment, I would have wasted years on a career that would not have made me happy or fulfilled. He asked, I thought, I switched majors, and now I'm in medical school. I have a physics professor to thank for it.
It was my 8th grade science teacher who first got me interested in biology. During the daily "reading time" I always forgot to bring a book. Instead of giving me fiction, he would give me copies of Scientific American and I would look through them, understanding little. One day I saw a picture very similar to this one (which later training actually showed me was problematic), and thus was my interest in biology born.
A high school teacher later fostered that interest and today I have a PhD and a couple of papers to show for it. Teachers matter.
I was a punk kid from Camden a tough little shit hole across the ben franklyn bridge in Philly.
Mrs Polk a 6th grade teacher told me I was the smartest kid she ever taught. She gave me a set of books on Greek mythology, I have no doubt that without her I would just have become another dead Latin King. Though, I know I wasn't the smartest kid she ever tiaught I m glad I beleved her and still think and thank her for as long as I live. Thx for that brother Charles you never disapoint.
I had a HS English teacher with a Frank Zappa poster (the Zappa Crappa one) on the inside door of her teacher cupboard. She was blunt, unconventional, and fearless. Her advice still runs through my head even today.
Thank you. I teach high school in Philly and it's the hardest thing I've ever done. Sometimes it feels impossible. I hope with all my heart that something I've said to one of my kids will be remembered in such a way.
My dad, a teacher, was too cheap and poor to have a bartender at his huge, boozy parties, so I not only learned to tend bar at an early age, I learned from my elementary school teachers to toss aside my father's jigger and pour drinks with a free and generous hand, which is perhaps the only useful skill I ever learned. Thanks for this, Charles.
It was my eighth-grade English teacher who first took time to tell me in a way that got through, that I had done a nice job on a short fictional essay and why she liked it. Up until that point I just dashed off English assignments mechanically and took my good grades without a second thought, like a page of math exercises. She made me realize that written works have an audience and deserve craftsmanship. Thanks, Mrs. Burke, wherever you are.
A high school teacher later fostered that interest and today I have a PhD and a couple of papers to show for it. Teachers matter.
I'm also in agreement with your thesis; Teachers Are Important.
Mrs Polk a 6th grade teacher told me I was the smartest kid she ever taught. She gave me a set of books on Greek mythology, I have no doubt that without her I would just have become another dead Latin King. Though, I know I wasn't the smartest kid she ever tiaught I m glad I beleved her and still think and thank her for as long as I live. Thx for that brother Charles you never disapoint.
We stand with Wisconsin!
You're both *clearly* very unhappy with your own lives to put down someone else like this. Enjoy your miserable, pathetic lives, assholes!
Charles, thanks for sharing.