English 100
8 Mar 2001

After my predawn venture into the educational cove that is Kapiolani Community College I throw down my back pack, open a bottle of water and become Ms Vickie. As an employee of an after school care program, I see on a daily basis the aftermath of what students leave behind once the bell rings at 2:15.
Teachers who come into the cafeteria because of a forgotten folder or a misplaced paper, in this teacher's eyes I can see the desperate hope. Pleading with me to tell them the forgetful child hasn't gone home so he or she can take home the test they received a sticker for and show mom and dad. The teachers who stay until the inky night has descended upon the school grounds correcting papers and stamping happy faces of tests because the kids smile when they see the proof their teacher is proud of them.

As I went to work today, I began to question what exactly would happen if teachers went on strike. If public school teacher's strike, the fifty-four kindergartners and first graders I help care for after school will be left to toil the days away in the company of alternate care. Children go to school, parents go to work, that's the way it works. But if the children stay home, who will watch them? If parents stay home to care for the kids, who will work? How will the world function? Society as we know will meet its Armageddon!

Okay, I might be getting ahead of myself, but who's to say it can't happen? With the constant controversy of the HSTA's attempt to get a raise, peril looms before us as we wait to see if the teachers will take to the picket lines. The same teachers who dig into their pockets to help provide school supplies. Teachers, who transform into mentors, surrogate parents, nurses, police officials, councilors, mediators, friends, and a truckload of other brilliantly descriptive professions in which they probably hadn't realized they would be when they wanted to become an educator.

Teachers not only teach our future world leaders, doctors and lawyers the ABC's of life, but they also reach out to each child in their own special way to prove even if your report card doesn't show it, you're still the best in the eyes of your teacher. Perhaps we take for granted our children's teachers.
However, I also remember teachers who were cast aside and forgotten once that final report card was handed out. While they may not have done all they could have, they taught the child and the child learned, case closed. Thinking back on my own education history, I've come to realize the teachers I hated the most, the ones I could barely remember were perhaps the ones who taught me the most. A high school teacher I will most definitely never forget was the worst teacher out of the 56 teachers I've had. She would schedule tests for the wrong day, then surprise us with the 200 point test three weeks after we covered the material. She would lose our work then blame us. There were times she forgot we had class, and other times when she would leave to "copy the worksheet" and not return to class! All of her students were on the verge of failing until the principal fired her and revoked our grades.

But then there are those teachers whose students cannot describe their educators with even the best thesaurus. Teachers who transcend the meaning of teaching and reach deep down into you soul, who touch your child's heart and makes such a deep and profound impact upon their lives, even if no words are spoken between the two. Who was that one teacher who touched your life? Don't have one or can't remember one, then what about your child or future child? How long do we expect teachers to stay the unsung hero's of our lives, even if we ourselves don't realize it?

With a successful family business, many people ask me why I don't choose to take over the business. As a child I always wanted to become a teacher, and now whenever I receive that 'look' saying I should major in engineering instead, I ask the offender, "Where do you think the engineers, doctors and lawyers of the world learn? They all had to go to grade school at one time or another." These are the same teachers who devote their lives to other people's children while they care for their own family.

It's sometimes hard to believe that teachers do indeed have lives of their own. Once the school bell sounds and the spelling tests are corrected. Teachers turn into mommies and daddies, grandmas and grandpas just the same as anyone else's parents or grandparents. In elementary school I remember watching the girls of my class cover the teachers black dress in white chalk while the boys would pick through the guinea pig pen and place the 'poop pellets' in the teacher's pen cup. In intermediate schoolboys used to fill half-empty rubber glue bottles with beer, set a fuse, and throw them into the halls during class. In high school the girl who sat behind me used to set the trashcan on fire on a daily basis, or steal the teacher's grade book and destroy her entire week's worth of lesson plans.

Teachers are regular everyday people who have to deal with the worlds most rotten children of the world, all while trying to teach and inspire them. Kids who feel the world owes them their very existence, who think cellular phone calls are more important than learning how to multiply. Throughout my education I've seen the best and worst teachers and while the worst do not deserve a raise, the majority of Hawaii's teachers are among the best, and deserve more than just a raise. They deserve our undying lifetime gratitude, for without them, we would know nothing.

Author's Note: This was an interview essay, but I neglected to mention the person I interviewed...So for the record, I interviews Sachi Matsushita, my former math teacher and now friend.