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The 21st Virtual Symposium: my dad the teacher
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The 21st Virtual Symposium: my dad the teacher My dad was a high school teacher back in the good old days: 60's, 70's, 80's.... I got to know him most as a teacher when I finally became a high school student and was able to attend the high school he taught at. Before then, I didn't really have a clue what was involved in being a teacher. As a pre-, I was too involved in myself to even see him as much more than the person who cooked great egg fried rice and who took care of my mom after she had a stroke. In high school, I was given the privilege of spending my lunch hour in his empty class room with him and my twin sister. Funny, I don't remember that we did that much during that time...I remember a feeling of peace, that all was good. I loved being in a big empty classroom with the eight foot tall old windows letting in all the light. Dad taught photography and mechanical drawing and it was usually the latter classroom we had lunch in. He wouldn't let me take any of his classes because, he said, the good grades he knew I would get would always be questioned by fellow students. At the time, I didn't understand and was just grumpy about it. Now I totally understand. So after school, he taught me all about photography and how to use the equipment in the school darkroom...yep, those were the days of actual film and hands-on film developing in a darkroom. To this day, the scent of those (kind of nasty) chemicals brings back good memories. Dad had two or three good teacher friends. He had an anxiety disorder (which I only learned about recently) so he steered away from the teacher's meetings. I got to know those few teacher friends a little but they also chose not to get too chummy for the same reasons my dad would not let me take his classes. I remember they attended his funeral shortly after I turned 19, as did a few other teachers from the high school. I remember that he had to teach summer school to make ends meet. We were always watchful of every penny spent...well, my parents were...I grew up being taught to be frugal. But there was never a summer vacation. I remember walking home on a slightly busy street a few blocks from our house one early evening (did we get ice cream or burgers at the local joint? I can't remember why we were on that street, walking, as it was a bit unusual. Maybe picking up some groceries at the small neighborhood market). Anyway, I remember he asked me if I thought he should get contacts...he'd worn glasses forever...slightly heavy rimmed tortoise shell glasses...so I asked him to take off his glasses so I could see what he looked like without them. Nope, I told him, without the glasses, your bushy eyebrows show too much. He did have bushy eyebrows lol I remember that because he was not just a dad then...he was a human being...like me. When I was 19, dad had a heart attack at home. The medics came, he wasn't too bad off but they transported him to the hospital for observation. He had diabetes, was on nitro glycerine so they were being careful. We visited him a little bit later, then I took my younger siblings for a drive, to spend some time at this little half-finished cabin we'd been working on, about an hour's drive north of Seattle. Out in the country, very quiet, peaceful. When I heard the sound of a vehicle on the road...a quarter mile off, on the other side of the big pasture....I knew. Somehow, I just knew. I told my younger siblings to stay at the far corner of the pasture, by the cabin while i went to meet my oldest brother, who had parked on the road and was on his way across the pasture. He told me, simply, dad died. That's it. No hug but that was my older brother. I turned and went back to my siblings, gave them a group hug and told them. It was kind of fitting that we were at the cabin that my dad had wanted to build with us all. So I guess what I want to say is....teachers are human beings. I know a lot of us already know that and have great memories of their past teachers. I actually don't remember any of my teachers.... except my dad...who wouldn't be my teacher....but he was.  Read RESPECT WE all NEED to do Better and Re Petition to Stop Transsexuals from Using Female Profiles |
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^5 to all teachers... Read RESPECT WE all NEED to do Better and Re Petition to Stop Transsexuals from Using Female Profiles
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great post. both my parents were teachers and I was also. I remember many times when I was in school how special other students thought they were and I just took them for granted. both are gone now and I am sure still teaching somewhere up above.
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Thanks for sharing this with us. Your dad sounds like a man I would have liked. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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saying thanx for this post seems so inadequate....but thank you !! woop woop
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Your dad sounds like a great teacher as well as a great human being. The dignity, decency and decorum of teachers of old seem to be lacking these days. Teachers act like high school kids and want to be their friend instead of their teacher. "Rules for happiness: something to do, someone to love, something to hope for.”― Immanuel Kant .
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Bonjour LiveLifeDoU Des souvenirs très émouvant , merci ♥ Poton ♥ Bisou ♥ Annie ♥ Hello LiveLifeDoU very moving memories, thank you ♥ Kiss ♥ Annie ♥
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Excellent and well done! Your Dad sounds like an awesome guy! hugsssssssss V Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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Your Dad sounds amazing.  
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A lot of emotion. Sommaire Et la souffrance vgtale L'être idéal ? Un ange dévasté par l'humour. E.M. Cioran
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Beautiful post regarding your father. I think many of us would have loved him (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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Thanks for sharing this with us. I enjoyed reading it. Vive La Difference
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Notre vie est un voyage-♦-Dans l'hiver et dans la nuit
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