In front of the whole class, my algebra teacher in 9th grade said that I was the student with the lowest scores and yet, she added that I had tried harder than anyone else. It was one of those red-face moments for me.
She was approachable, my algebra teacher. I would visit her to get help. No matter how much she wanted me to do well and she worked with me, I didn’t get it until I took Algebra twenty years later. I got As then. My brain had matured and so had I.
I got the low marks in 9th grade; I was responsible for them. Not my teacher!
I read the words “lifelong learning, ” “learning outcomes,” “powerful predictor,” “effective teaching,” over and over again in commentaries and discussions on education and students and teachers.
What are we all doing?
We have at best 100 years, any of us, in this most magnificent place.
I am glad my algebra teacher didn’t get held responsible for my C in her class. I remember her until this day yet I don’t remember her name. I remember her kindness and caring. That is what it is all about: kindness, understanding, helpfulness, and most important love.
I don’t see those words thrown around in educational conversations. Hard to measure ‘em isn’t it?