The Transformation of a Teacher

Mrs. Westpfahl was at least a thousand years old, tall and skinny with knobby elbows and old lady hair of an indeterminate color. That first day of history class—my least favorite subject next to math—she told us "I don't care what side of an issue you're on, as long as you're not sitting on the fence." It was my junior year and for the first time, we were required to write essay papers. Mrs. Westpfahl  taught us how to do it, and slowly a new world opened up to me. In the ancient, beautiful, and soon to be replaced Plainfield, New Jersey library, I stood on wobbly stools to pull down books from the shelves, searching their indexes for Jim Crow laws or the history of birth control (which had been legalized for married couples only the year before! Hard to imagine.) I pored over the Readers Guide to Periodical Literature, thrilled by the fact that so much information was at my fingertips. I sat at the old library tables, the same tables my mother had studied at forty years earlier, and wrote snippets of information on note cards, stacking them lovingly, watching the pile grow. I put the cards in order, created an outline and typed the essay on our old Smith Corona, never guessing I'd just completed a process that would one day be the same I used to write twenty-one novels (except for the Smith Corona, thank God).

It was the era of the civil rights movement, the year Plainfield was torn apart by riots from which it's never fully recovered. My essay on Jim Crow opened my eyes to the roots of what was happening in my city and when I joined the marchers downtown, I knew which side of the fence I was on.  I went into my essay on birth control with the premise that abortion should not be legalized (good Catholic girl that I was) but as I researched the history of women's reproductive rights, I found myself leaping completely over the fence on that one.  

By the end of the year, Mrs. Westpfahl had changed dramatically. She was fifty-eight at best, slender, smiling, beautiful and wise. She's the person I think of with gratitude with each book I write, each newspaper I read, and each time someone asks me the question "Who was your favorite teacher?"

Who was yours?

Comments

[Laraine]

Diane, this post is so timely for me. Just this week, I was astonished to find my fifth grade teacher on Facebook. She's 82 or 83, and surely one of the coolest 'old' ladies on the planet, as she cruises around Facebook and e-mail and can discuss books with the best.

Although I loved books and reading with a passion by the time I entered her fifth-grade class, the hour after lunch each day, in which we were instructed to put our heads on our desks if we didn't feel like sitting up to listen, while she read to us for the hour from the current book (I remember CHARLOTTE'S WEB best of that year), surely had a profound influence on my life as a reader and as a writer.

She told me this week that she still loves CHARLOTTE'S WEB and rereads it from time to time. Cool.

[Josh]

My ex-wife, who taught one of my first-year law school courses before we got involved with each other for the next 23 years.

Aside from the obvious, our relationship made me think more deeply about adult subjects than I had previously, helped me grow up, and made me a much more rounded person. She also had the unstated effect of driving me to work harder in school, especially in the classes I had with her, because I couldn't reasonably expect to have an intellectual relationship with someone who didn't respect me or who thought I was trying to take advantage of our (at the time) unannounced social status.

So, even after times that might have caused me to think otherwise, she's still my favorite.

[Reine]

Hi Diane,

That would be Mr. Grassia, my great and scary English teacher whose voice is a never-ending reverberating presence in my head as critic of the liberties I take in writing.

He was strict. You did your assignments or you stayed after classes were out and did them. No excuses. You were marked down a full grade, as well.

He was wonderful. He was respectful. He was respected. He was a decorated WWII veteran. He was a closeted gay man who could not come out until later in life and remain a teacher.

I thought he was old. When I read his obituary, I realized he was only 30 when he was my teacher.

[Margaret Maron]

The influence of a good teacher is like a stone dropped in a still pond, the ripples keep going outward and outward and affect not only the student, but the student's children, the adult colleagues, the people who are touched by the work the student produces over a lifetime. Lois Fisher was that teacher for me. Junior and Senior English. She lit a fire under our little 35-student class of poor farm kids. Before her, maybe one graduate would go on to college. In my class, 7. She found scholarships and grants and motivated us to look beyond the tobacco fields. I owe her my life.

[Dru]

Mr Robert Iorfida. He taught me Spanish and he was also my guidance counselor in the 8th grade. He taught and showed me that I can do anything in this world despite what others say. He gave me strength when times were hard and he inspired me to reach higher than my surroundings would allow.

[William]

Miss Schultz, 8th grade English, a woman who inspired terror simply by walking down the hallway, yet instilled a love of words and language that carries on to this day. Mr. Carver, freshman English, who once told me, "You're very good with words." Mrs. Chreiten, Senior English, allowed me into her class when I was a Junior based on Mr. Carver's recommendation. The woman would slowly crucify a student without wood or nails over a mis-placed comma, but taught precision and accuracy above all. (And yes, it was my turn in the barrel more than once over that year.)

Everyone needs to watch this. If you've seen it before, watch it again. If you've not seen it, you need to watch the whole thing:

http://youtu.be/RxsOVK4syxU

I remember them well, and think of them often.

[Ramona]

Mrs. Barker, 9th grade English, who put LORNA DOONE in my hand and said, "You need to start reading books like this."

[Karen in Ohio]

Mrs. Young, my glamorous and kind second grade teacher. Mrs. Young let me spend reading class in the library, since I was already reading Nancy Drew-level books.

Mrs. Adams, who encouraged me to write creatively, and who invited the seventh grade girls in the choir to her home after Saturday Mass. She treated us like grownups, so we acted accordingly.

Sister Agnes, my home ec teacher in sophomore year of high school. My two goals for high school: Take French (oh, yeah, Miss Gerbus called my accent the best in the class!), and take Sewing. Sister Agnes, who later on left the convent to marry, noticed that my first two projects were well made, and she let me make a much-needed dress as my third project, instead of whatever the rest of the class was making. And she gave me a 100% on it. There's your encouragement, right there.

The last was an attorney who taught Insurance Law for Chartered Life Underwriter classes. This was the potentially more boring class in the ten steps toward the designation, a professional ranking of life insurance agents. Since it was on Monday morning at 7 AM, I expected having a hard time staying awake. Nope. Joe was incredible. He made the class interesting, and he kept asking questions that made one think. I couldn't have fallen asleep in that class if I'd tried. And he made ME a better teacher by his example.

[judy merrill larsen]

Oh, Diane, I love this (and not just because I taught high school English for 15 years).

Mrs. Van Aman, my first grade teacher who let me fall in love with school and thinking and reading. She seemed so old then, but was probably only 40. I stopped by to visit her before my junior year in college and she had the class picture of every first grade class she'd ever had lining the walls of her house.

Mrs. Thompson, my 8th grade English teacher who terrified me, but exposed me to thought-provoking literature and stopped my mom in the grocery store one day to tell her that I was a fine writer.

Mrs. Isenberg, my 7th grade history teacher who made the constitution and politics come alive for all of us.

There were many more. I love teachers.

[Diane Chamberlain]

Reading these comments makes me more aware of how we undervalue teachers in this country. We make it so hard for them to continue teaching and support their families at the same time. Margaret really said it best when she described the far-reaching impact a good teacher has on her students. She/he isn't just teaching a student; she's teaching the future.

[Jean]

Thank you (all) for this. I am now a teacher educator (former math teacher), and my colleagues and I are about to embark on yet another year of helping launch prospective teachers on developing into the best they can be. Things are hard for teachers just now (not that they've ever been easy), and this was a timely reminder that our greatest successes are not measured, by tests or numbers, but are lived out in the lives of our students.

[Harley]

Mr. Barrett, who taught Social Studies. He never let on which side of the conflict he was on, as he made us learn all about the world crises . . . in the Middle East, e.g. which meant tracing its origins back, back, back, which meant studying World Wars 1 and 2, the Holocaust, the United Nations parceling out Palestine, the plight of refugees . . .

He was a very gentlemanly, understated man. There were more flamboyant, charismatic, fun teachers, but Mr. Barrett cared passionately about the art of critical thinking and sending us forth with that. Making up our own minds about an issue. Seeing through the propaganda. Like your Mrs. Westpfahl. How rare is that?

[Jill W.]

I have several- one in particular stands out- I was in public school in Norcross, GA. She assigned the play, "Desire Under the Elms" by Eugene O'Neill, which was a banned book in that county. We had to keep book covers on the book, lest the administration find out what we were reading. If there is a better way to get teenagers interested in literature than by making it forbidden, I don't know what it is. I still love the plays of Eugene O'Neill to this day. I don't think I ever would have read any of them if it hadn't been for her.

My favorite professor in college was Peter Cooley, a poet who teaches creative writing at Tulane. I love his work and he also taught me so much about how to read and critique and how to edit and make my words really count. Can't say enough good things about him.

[Chris]

Sister Ann Xavier, the trigonometry teacher, who would have made a first-class drill sergeant. But she is one I appreciate in retrospect. She would not accept "But, Sister, I've never been good at math" or even "I don't understand" and pushed at me relentlessly for all of 11th grade. I know now that I took on challenges I might not have otherwise because she showed me that I could do more than I thought -- and that failure was not fatal.

[Debby]

My memory is shot in regards to who my teacher was, but I remember the day. I was never really a big reader, just read what I had to. And then, one day in fifth grade, we were to have quiet reading time (okay, no problme) and then group. I got so into my book that I missed the call for group! And my teacher never commented on the tardiness, but later told me she was so happy that I had found something that so caught my interest.

And it was a seventh grade teacher who encouraged me to read whatever I wanted, regardless of what was 'popular' or 'trendy'. So, I read ROOTS by Alex Haley...my first experience with reading a book that was turned into a movie, and learning so much more than the tv movie showed. And my teacher gave me credit for seven books instead of just one, due to the size and length. :)

[Karen in Ohio]

Debby, your examples made me tear up. How fortunate you were, to have such sensitive teachers.

[Sheree Gillcrist]

Grade Eight. Miss Hood. She and her spinster sister taught at my junior high. They wore tweed skirts and matching twin sets with pearl necklaces. The ultimate anthesis to anything cool. I cuffed off school to go and see Gone With The Wind and got caught by her.lol. She told me that she couldn't think of a better reason to miss her class. I was a bored student and she took it upon herself to go to the university library to get me books for my book reports and got me an exception to read there.In a world gone crazy with a dying father, never enough money or food, she believed in me. I will thank her for that forever.

[Marcia in OK]

Teachers have the power to change the world. Thanks for reminding us Diane.

My favorite teacher was Mrs. McCord. I took every English/Literature class she taught at our High School. She didn't care what our opinion was, as long was we could defend it. She taught us how to research, and think for ourselves, and to listen to another's opinion even if we disagreed. I learned that my opinion does count, but so did the opinion of the person sitting next to me.

A good teacher is worth more than we could ever pay, a bad teacher should be run outta town!

[Marie]

Sister Mary Augustine walked into my sophomore high school Religion class and introduced us to the writing of St Thomas Aquinas.
This was heady stuff for me. I was mesmerized by the theology and gobbled it up. To this day, I still thank her for not underestimating the young students and making us see the value of the connection of mind, body and soul.
Sister Christine taught us unselfishness when she herded us into the chemistry lab on a Saturday morning to coach us so that we could achieve higher grades.
And finally, my music teacher, Sister Gertrude who gave me piano lessons and let me sing at the concert.
I daresay she was very king and indulgent telling me that I had a good voice range. I practiced the song "Trees" in the house and ignored the obvious family winces. But Sister Gertrude did not squash my singing aspiration and I am still loving her to this day.

[Diana in STL]

Two of my HS teachers stand out. Our school was small so you had the same teacher every year as the subject level progressed. Marie Simmons taught math and is probably the reason I became a math teacher. She was a fantastic teacher very patient but also no nonsense. Because she was the only HS math teacher some advanced classes were taught alternate years. Our class would have had 2 of the advanced classes out of sequence had she not taught a small group of us geometry during what I later realized was her "prep" period. I'm pretty sure she was not compensated (at least not much) for teaching the extra class.

Edith Simmons (no relation to Marie) was my English teacher who like Miss Westphal made sure we could do research and write a paper on any subject. I'm sure if she were alive today she would be a little disappointed at how careless I've become in my writing. She was very stern but a gifted teacher.

Dr. Gardner was the college teacher who made history come alive for the first time. History was always my least favorite subject until I had Dr. Gardner.

I just hope out that somewhere out there maybe there is one person who says "wow Miss W was a great teacher."

[Storyteller Mary]

Mrs. Smith, my eighth grade English teacher, taught half-days and was in charge of the district's publicity for the other half day. When we read _Julius Caesar_, she insisted that all the conspirators pantomime-stab Caesar. Shy as I was, this tiny bit of action opened a door for me, leaving my seat and performing!
She expected us to WRITE! -- that journalism background meant she focused on clarity. She also had a party at her house at the end of the year, and when I saw her ELECTRIC typewriter . . . aah the wonder of it all!
I did love the little portable manual typewriter my parents bought me that summer, and the personal typing class they paid for me to take in summer school,both big outlays for our family, but Dad said it would help me in high school, which made it worth it, and I also typed out his stories, saving them for posterity.
I finally got an electric typewriter in college, the property of a boyfriend, who never came to get it back from me at the end of the year for which I should feel ashamed, but I put it to much better use than he ever would have, and he could afford another. Besides, he deserved much worse than the loss of a typewriter . . . and, yeah, I do feel guilty, but if he had wanted it enough, he would have come to get it. In an attempt to remedy the karma, I let my ex keep the typewriter when we split -- he was working on his thesis, and I was at that point working in an office full of typewriters (to each according to his need ;-)

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

Mr. Thomas Thornburg, love him love him forever, he was my senior in high school English teacher, and he is in the acknowledgments of my books. I can't even begin to--well, he introduced me to Shakespeare. Taught me to think. And when I wrote something that was silly or unclear, he'd stamp it with a rubber stamp he had, which said GUG.

Life-changing, life changing ,and I will never ever forget him. Thank you, Diane, for letting me say the name.

I actually tracked him down, after PRIME TIME was published. And thanked him. He remembered me!! And said he'd always had "high hopes." I'm beginning to cry, even now. (But you know me...)

[Diane Chamberlain]

Hank, that reminds me of one of my English teachers, whom I saw at my 35th reunion. He was ancient, and since I never spoke in class and wrote a very weird paper once that he refused to even grade, which embarrassed me no end because of the risk I'd taken with the subject matter, I thought he'd never remember me. But as I walked toward him, he held out his hand and said, "Diane Lopresti, I knew you'd become a writer." I DID cry.

[xena]

Are we talking school teachers or other teachers who influenced our lives?
Seems we all had a great English teacher at some point. Mine was Mr. Obrintz in High School.
We were assigned levels, the 4th level being the kids who had the highest comprehension and I suspect the smartest scores on the evaluation exams. You had all years of kids in that class and you picked your teacher so everyone learned at the same rate.
I adored Mr. Obrintz as he appreciated my somewhat creative approach to literature. I chose him every year. I think he was a thespian himself so I was not cut off from my report on the characters in David Copperfield and was allowed (much to the relief of the rest of my group who had the plot etc... to report on)to spend the entire class time expounding on them.
Aren't these teachers a treasure?
Amazing how they have formed our lives.
And yes they do remember you.

[Storyteller Mary]

Oh, Diane, you made me misty, too (and curious about the paper . . .)
I love connecting with former students (and FB helps with that) -- it's nice to see them out and making a difference. There were a couple of our former teachers at my 25th reunion (long time ago now, and there haven't been any since that I know of). I was surprised to realize how close to our age some of them were -- a teacher just out of college has only four years on high school seniors, after all . . . and after 25 years, that difference is minimal.

[Michelle Vann]

My favorite teacher was Mrs. Alderson. She taught my Kindergarten class. Kindergarten wasn't mandatory in North Carolina at the time and so I went to a private class at my pre-school. My mother said that I came home after the first day and stated that I wasn't going back. I told her that we weren't going to learn how to read. Mom must have said something because Mrs. Alderson offered to teach me to read after class. I will be forever grateful for such a wonderful teacher and for the love of reading that she fostered all those years ago.

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