| Sunny Side Up! April 25, 2001 Copyright 2001, Kathleen Gibson We Have the Same Teacher She met me at the door. It was author�s week at her school, and she was acting as the official greeter. �Are you a author?� Her pixie face peered into mine. �I guess I am. Are you?� �YES!� She fairly crackled with enthusiasm. �And I�m seven years old, and my name is Christy.� I did the math. �You must be in grade two.� �NOPE, grade one! And my teacher is Mrs. Graham.� I laughed. �How funny! My grade one teacher was Mrs. Graham, too!� Her eyes opened wide. �Did she have gray hair?� �She did. Yes.� �And was she o-o-ld?� She was bouncing up and down on her tiptoes now. �Well, I thought she was,� I said, anticipating what was coming. �Wheeeeh,� she squealed, spreading her hands wide. �DID YOU KNOW, WE HAVE THE SAME TEACHER!� I�m still laughing. I happen to know Shirley Graham, and she isn�t old. My Mrs. Graham, on the other hand, would be � by now. Different women, of course, but, in a peculiar way, little Christy and I always will be our Mrs. Graham�s students. Every time we pick up a book to read, whenever we add two and six and come up with eight, or mix yellow and blue to make green, it�s because a Mrs. Graham taught us those things. The influence of a teacher � good, or bad, long outlasts their time with us. Whenever I�m tempted to think I�m someone, I�m nudged to recall that I would be nowhere without the myriad of teachers that have influenced my life, and I lift a prayer of thanks for them. I had the chance to thank one of those people recently - my Grade four schoolteacher, Joy Ruffeski. Our reconnecting led to a three-hour lunch. It was a horrible school, she told me - the first and the worst in her career. My finding her and coming back to say thanks made that difficult time seem worthwhile. Denise was one of my adult piano students. She had little skill, and less time to practice. But she was dogged in her determination to continue, so I taught her for several years. She was approaching the end of the first book when we moved. I often wondered what happened to Denise�s piano career. Nine years later, she called. She was in book seven now, she said - so proud - and she wanted to thank me for my patience. To tell me that she remembered the laughs and conversations we�d shared more than anything else. In our lives, we will all be both teacher and student, many times over. There are two important things I�ve learned: remember to give credit to your teachers � even go back and thank them, if you can. Secondly, whatever, and whenever you teach, realize that your influence will long outlive you. What are you teaching? Will you be happy for it to come walking back into your life someday? What have you learned? Thank someone. At least, thank God. You can respond to this column at [email protected] or by writing this paper directly. |