When I saw the invitation in the Daily Journal to remember an influential teacher, memories that I thought were long forgotten turned out not to be forgotten after all.
When I think back on my education, I’m grateful not to just one teacher but also to those teachers who understood that not all students who “color outside the lines” are thick-headed or rebellious. True, I needed teachers who could lead a right-brained kid like myself back to the task at hand. But I’m so grateful to those teachers who were patient and didn’t write me off as a space cadet.
I’m even more grateful for the teachers who understood that my doodling and daydreaming might be more than liabilities. Perhaps they saw from the work I turned in that some of my answers were more than just a regurgitation of what was covered in class. I had thoughts of my own.
In contrast, I knew quite early, by third grade at least, that my daydreaming and doodling worried my parents. They would often ask, “Did you bring all your homework home?” or, if they found me drawing, “Are you sure all your homework is done?”
Looking back now, I can sympathize with my parents. They both grew up during the Depression, and having a son who forgot things and had trouble concentrating frightened them. I remember the time my mother caught me doodling and said, “Maybe when you grow up you could be a cartoonist.” I’m sure she said that more in despair than hope.
Family, friends and colleagues will agree that I am, at times, still forgetful and prone to daydreaming. I’ll spare readers too many embarrassing stories, other than to admit that not once but twice I gave family members Christmas gifts that years earlier they gave to me. And I won’t even try to estimate the number of times I’ve misplaced my wallet, keys or glasses.
Because of caring and patient teachers, however, I learned techniques to control the worst excesses of my tendencies. Slowly, I began to understand that structure doesn’t have to be the enemy. Similarly, guidelines don’t exist to shut down creativity, like claustrophobic boxes we’re forced to fit in, but are more like guardrails that give needed direction to the creativity we have.
In one of their more famous songs, Pink Floyd tells teachers to “leave those kids alone” and sarcastically compares education to “thought control.” Probably everyone reading this column can recall teachers who unfortunately taught like that.
But as another school year comes to an end and we attend commencements and graduations, let’s remember and salute those teachers in our lives who didn’t add “another brick in the wall,” but instead opened windows and doors to this amazing world.
