Lessons Beyond the Classroom: Celebrating the Unconventional Teachers in Our Lives
Teachers are found everywhere.
In the workplace, in the community centre, the library, on the sidewalk and yes, in the classroom. Who they are and what their actual job title is may differ.
The TikTok post showing you the proper way to load a dishwasher – Teacher.
The YouTube video demonstrating the correct (and safe) method for using a chainsaw – Teacher.
The podcast host who provides insight on financial competency –Teacher.
The coach who gives us advice to improve our swing, stroke, throw, gait, jump or landing. Teacher.
The lessons we receive from them stick with us.
Sometimes we don’t recognize the lesson until much later. This is particularly true of those who taught me in a formal role. Those wonderfully sneaky people who you think are teaching you about one thing, such as Anthropology, but it turns out you realize there was something much more lasting, and more relevant that was being taught.
With that in mind, and with the summer drawing to a close, here’s a not-at-all exhaustive appreciation post for a handful of the wonderful “teachers” in my life.
To Mr. McCann, who threw out the standard spelling and grammar approach for English in grade 7, which pissed me off to no end since I always got an A and was working one grade level ahead, and taught reading comprehension instead. That was a gift that expanded my vocabulary and (eventually) made me appreciate the value of not always doing things ‘by the book’.
To Mrs. Gerard, who made sure I had a birthday cake every year in university, when I was living four hours away from my parents. She taught me the importance of making someone feel welcome and at home no matter where they are.
To John Doan, my first boss after university, who taught me more about decision making and building trust with your team than anyone before or since.
To my driving instructor. I cannot recall her name, but she introduced me to the concept of the ‘flattened S’ and I still think of it every single time I enter an intersection to make a left turn. Isn’t is incredible how some small life lessons just stick?!?
To Professor Kennedy, who was the toughest teacher in the whole four-year honours program in Windsor. My male classmates couldn’t stand her. By the time I reached the final year, and our class was just 25 students that were pursuing the honours designation, I appreciated her tough approach. I still recall the lessons I learned, and how she pierced my bubble-wrapped smalltown views of society. She worked tirelessly with underrepresented and vulnerable groups. She held viewpoints that forced me to see the world from another person’s perspective as no one else had. Looking back, it is so obvious why her male students disliked her in their freshmen year. Most had never encountered a woman like her before. She challenged her students. There was never a class favourite. There were no shortcuts.
To Christina and Dayna, who taught me the importance of showing up. Just showing up and being there because it is the right thing to do for a friend. Even when it isn’t the most rewarding experience but because it is what they need. Consistency and persistence are key elements of kindness in a lasting friendship that cannot be overstated.
To Mr. Smith, my Latin and Classics teacher for three years in high school, whose enthusiasm was infectious. A knowledgeable teacher who is over-the-moon with passion for the subject matter is a rare find. Mostly because they haven’t been worn down by us dimwit students over the years. Learning about classic Roman mythology is interesting, but to make Latin exciting? That is an achievement. I sill have my texts (Edith Head’s Mythology and Homer’s The Iliad), with the Ex Libris stickers featuring a black cat on the inside cover. I can picture him, so animated, moving around the classroom, bringing the subject matter to life. Having fun while teaching high school students!
To Mr. Fuller, who, in our grade 8 class, embraced new ways of reaching his students. Good grades meant more time to play Where in the World is Carmen San Diego on the lone computer, the Commodore 64, in our school library. At that time, Carmen San Diego was a text based game. Just a series of questions and prompts in green lettering on a black screen. We would play in teams of two, one student typed while the other had a world almanac and would frantically try to figure out which country had the Lira as currency. We thought we had it made in the shade to be playing a video game instead of being in class. Little did we know we were learning global geography, languages and demographics. Well played Mr. Fuller, well played.
To Ms. Walsh, my high school drama teacher, although we did not always see eye-to-eye, and I certainly didn’t become a start pupil, who taught me about the kindness and concern a teacher can have for her students. A friend of mine in OACs (grade 13) fell in with a boy, and went from a straight A student to skipping her final exams within a semester. The drama teacher was proctoring a final exam that I was writing. A few minutes into the exam, she stopped by my desk to inquire where my friend was since she didn’t sit to write her finals. The compassion I saw in her eyes when I shrugged (we were supposed to be quiet) stays with me. She genuinely cared about her students as people, and wanted the best for them. It is a quality I tried to emulate in my brief foray into teaching.
To my freshmen biology professor, who spoke with frustration about the stark difference in the ratio of male-to-female students in his two course offerings. Biology, for non-science majors, was split 50-50, and the course offering for science majors had hardly any young women. He knew there was nothing he could do to change this at the university level, these decisions were made in high school after all. With a wife who held a doctorate in mathematics, he lamented the drop-off of female participation in STEM, knowing it had nothing to do with intelligence and everything to do with society and the educational system. While the shift has occurred over recent decades, his advocacy stood out then and is even more pronounced as I look back.
To the graduate student who first taught me statistics. She embraced the ‘show me your work’ philosophy of learning, whereas the other students had a professor who tested stats for first-timers using multiple choice. They learned nothing. You either got it or you didn’t. For a subject that is so uniquely different for ‘soft science’ learners, yet so integral for their ability to measure and assess their work in the field, her approach was the correct one. If we got the wrong answer, she helped us figure out where we went wrong. Did we skip a step? Did we make a simple calculation error? Did we use the wrong method entirely? Hers is the most lasting of impressions…
Regardless of what you teach, in an official teaching role or not, you choose whether the goal is ‘to teach’ or ‘for your students to learn’. There is a difference.
There are so many more people I will think of as soon as I publish this piece. That is the way of things, isn’t it? If you read this piece and someone popped into your mind, a person who taught you a lasting life lesson regardless of their title, please share your story wherever you see this post.
There is always room for more appreciation.
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Keep this topic going: listen to the accompanying Reflections by G podcast
