Days 22 and 23 : Not Forgetting Teachers : Part 5

This is part 5 in a 5 part series about teachers. In this and previous posts, I'm writing about memorable teachers I've had in the past. I want to challenge you to take some time to remember how teachers have influenced your life and take a few moments to thank them. Teaching is a thank-less job and teachers know this, but that doesn't mean that they should never be thanked. Believe me, a thank you letter or Facebook message sent to your 4th grade teacher or history professor will make them feel like they got a million dollar bonus. Ok, a million dollar bonus would be awesome, but to know that their life's work has made a positive impact on their students is priceless.

Fair warning. This is a long post. I mean really long. It took me two days and five pages to write it. If you’d rather skip it, that’s fine. If you’d like to read on, grab a cuppa, and let’s do this. 

The four years of my undergraduate studies took place at a small, conservative Christian college in the South. I wanted to leave after my first semester. When I’d thought about what the “college experience” would be like, I certainly didn’t imagine 11:00 curfews, rigid rules about mingling with the opposite sex, chapel twice a week, and devotional/prayer time before each class. Nope. Not what I had in mind. However, I clearly remembered the day during my senior year of high school when I walked across the campus of this college and I felt God whisper, “This is where I want you to be.” 

It didn’t make sense to me at the time, but I said, “Ok God - you make it happen.” And He did.

The beauty and beast of a small college is that you know eeeeeeeeeevrybody. And I’m not just talking about students. You also get to know teachers, ahem, professors, and they get to know you. The average class size at that time was twelve. I’m serious. My business law class had five people...FIVE. The largest class size I attended had around thirty students. You don’t get overlooked in a class of five or even thirty. My professors knew when I wasn’t in class and were concerned. Like really, genuinely concerned. They invited me into their homes, took me out for lunch or coffee, introduced their spouses and children to me, and they wanted to know me. 

I spent four years with teachers who had a profound, positive influence on my life. I am not even sure how to begin to name and thank them for being deeply invested in providing me an academic, spiritual, holistic education. But, alas, I shall try.

Dr. B. Black - After an 8:00 psychology class {worst}, I quickly popped into the cafeteria for a bagel and to-go coffee to make it to my 9:20 class. The class that I looked forward to the most that semester: Life and Teachings of Jesus with Dr. Black. His class was the uplifting, deep faith-building, rinsing-the-mud-off-your-eyes class that helped me to more clearly see and know who Jesus is. Thank you, Dr. Black, for giving me a better understanding of how to read and study scripture. Thank you for loving and knowing Jesus and for intelligently, humbly, and passionately inspiring me to pursue a love and knowledge for Him as well. 

Dr. Nation - “Professor” Nation at the time, he had a quiet enthusiasm for the biological world that made me want to know everything there was to know about zoology and field biology. {He taught other classes, but these were the two that I had the pleasure of taking.} He took us camping, hiking, let us euthanize insects for an entomology project, and sort through leaf matter to find snails for his doctoral research. He agreed to let me be his lab assistant, despite the fact that I was a business major, not a biology major. He demonstrated that science and the Bible could not only co-exist, but complement each other. He didn’t ignore or brush-off tough questions; instead, we examined facts and reasoned through logical responses. Thank you, Dr. Nation, for taking education beyond classroom walls. Thank you for teaching us to examine the physical world around us, to look for details in creation, to ask hard questions and look harder for the answer.

Carol - We met every Wednesday to talk for an hour. She offered me coffee and it was in her office that I learned to drink it black. I wasn’t struggling through tough times, nor did I think myself to be a train-wreck, but when counseling services are offered for free, you take advantage. It was preventative medicine. We talked family, friends, desires, hopes, fears, and feelings. To let my thoughts freely escape my mouth with a trusted, experienced counselor helped me to make sense of who I was and why I was that way. Thank you, Carol, for keeping me in your schedule each week and sharing your insight and caffeine. Thank you for offering a safe place to talk, discover, laugh, and learn. I truly hope you know what a great breath of fresh air you provided to a young lady coming into her own. 

Dr. Campbell - Tall, bald, and a dynamic choral instructor, Dr. Campbell did to collegiate voices what baking soda and aluminum does to pieces of silver - made them shine. He was gentle, yet direct, he knew how to pull the best of your voice to the surface. I was fortunate enough to sing under his direction in concert choir, a female barbershop quartet {I sang bass...no joke}, and in several musicals. He taught us that our voice is not merely our vocal folds and mouth; it is our entire body working in accord to produce proper vocal techniques. His conducting was mesmerizing - his arms, face, expression acting as strings pulling beauty from somewhere deep within the voices of his pupils. With the tiniest raising of eyebrows and slight tilt of the head, he could change the tone of our entire choir. He was a master at his art and cultivated us as artists alongside. Thank you, Dr. Campbell for giving me, no less than twice a week, a moment in my day when I was completely in awe of the beauty of music. Thank you for bringing together voices who may disagree on innumerable topics, but teach them to sing in one accord. Thank you for the opportunities you gave for me to use my voice to glorify its Creator. 

Drs. L. Black, R. Flannigan, and B. Mealy - My English professors. I loved writing going into college. They kept me loving it while I was there and made sure I was a better writer when I left. They helped to refine my technique while not diminishing my unique voice. Dr. Black taught me to correctly spell definitely and surprise. {Shameful that I didn’t know this before college.} She advised me as I contemplated changing majors. She visited me while I lived in Czech. Her kind smile and contagious laughter never failed to put me at ease. Dr. Flannigan, though I never had her as a teacher, skillfully and constructively edited any of my writing that was to be published. Her edits were always given with explanation and I learned a great deal about revising and proofreading under her watch. Thanks to her teaching, I have edited a number of papers and publications over the years. Dr. Mealy taught my freshman composition course and Modern World Literature during my junior year. Despite her brilliance {or perhaps because of}, she never discredited even the most inane of responses from her students. Early in the lit class, I remember an instance when a student, who had clearly not read the required literature, gave {in my opinion} a completely wrong response to a question. I mentally rolled my eyes, expecting a reproachful remark from Dr. Mealy. Yet, somehow, in the course of two sentences, she had skillfully turned his weak response into an intelligent insight. I was completely taken aback and wildly impressed. This was the mark of a great teacher. She knew that the point of the class was to teach literature, not disparage her students. Thank you, ladies, for making me a better writer, thinker of literature, and teacher of readers. 

Dave and Donna - Long time missionaries in Zambia, Dave and Donna served as Missionaries-in-Residence at our college. Dave taught missions courses and Donna, a nurse, mentored many ambitious young women in their pursuit of God’s will. They had four boys, elementary to college age, and yet each week they hosted a group of at least thirty students in their home. This is where I first encountered their love for students and  the desire to see them learn and fulfill God’s call on their lives. They invited us into their home so that we might know of the powerful way that God was using people all over the world to tell others about Him. I stayed on the fringes of this group because there was no way that I was going to get some crazy notion in my head to leave my hair dryer and move to the bush of Africa to tell people about God. Nope. Wasn’t. Happening. During my junior year, Donna was leading a small group of students to Germany to visit some former students who were now missionaries there. Because a spot came open and because I had a passport, I was asked to join. What was the harm? I mean it was Germany. The middle of Europe. Not Africa. As I sat in the German living room of these three American girls, listening to their stories, I felt a tiny tug in my gut...and it wasn’t the wiener schnitzel. One of the girls said, “I just felt like God was saying to me, ‘Yes, you will miss your family, friends, all that is familiar. But what might you miss if you don’t go?’ And I knew that I could not miss out on what God had in store for me.” I was quietly undone. Donna was there to listen as I told her of my similar story, that I was sure of God asking me who I loved most. Over the next two years, Donna mentored me as I waded through some big stuff in my life - big questions, big tears, big challenges, big decisions. She and Dave never pushed me or put words in my mouth. They asked questions and listened. And they were there when I decided to follow God’s call for me to go on the mission field. They flew me home from the Czech Republic, where I was serving, to see family and my brother after he had a life-threatening illness. They have called, written, visited, and loved me long after my tenure in Czech ended. Dave and Donna, thank you both for teaching me to love people enough to want to show them Christ. Thank you for giving your personal time and thoughts to my development as a woman of God. Thank you for taking students into your home - showing them a strong, real marriage and family. I love you both!

Ken and Mrs. Dill - Remember when I said that I wanted to leave my small Christian college after the first semester? Well, Ken is the one who convinced me to stay. It was late in the fall semester and I had just been selected to travel with a singing group. I knew it was an honor to be chosen, but I was ready to give it up and go. I didn’t fit. I didn’t have many friends. I didn’t believe that these people were for real. Walking across campus one afternoon, Ken, our chaplain, said, “Jasmyn, I think you should just stay for one more semester. See what God has in store for you. If you still feel the same way at that point, then go.” It wasn’t pushy or bossy. It was a gentle challenge asking me to figure out what God was thinking when He put me here. Ken was right. Over the next semester, I made friends - really good ones, I enjoyed the group of people I was traveling with, and I began to find that I did have a place on this small campus. Ken continued to encourage me and help me develop as a leader. He often saw abilities in me that I didn’t know I had. His wife, Mrs. Dill, was equally encouraging and I simply adored her. She was witty and a pleasure to be around. She is probably the most gifted musician I have ever known. She doesn’t just ‘play the piano’ - she gives it life, as if she were the reason pianos were invented. I think every piano breathes a sigh of relief when she sits down to make it sing {and is very thankful that she’s not the five millionth person to tinkle Fur Elise on its ivories}. While I was in choir, we traveled each spring to different churches in the country to perform. This required sleeping arrangements, which required roommates. One year, I was fortunate enough to get to room with her! It was like hitting the proverbial jackpot. She didn’t stay up late watching awful TV or talking on the phone. We actually slept, woke up on time, and kept our belongings neatly packed, rather than strewn over chairs and such. I just remember being always at ease around Mrs. Dill - her great talent never puffed her up, she just loved sharing her gift with others. Thank you, Ken and Mrs. Dill for encouraging me to stick it out, learn who I am, and pursue what God wanted for me. You are both teachers whom I will not soon forget.

Professors L & M Vischer - As a business major, I was required to take courses like accounting, income tax, and economics. Accounting and income tax almost killed me, and I feared the worst when I started my first semester of economics. To my great surprise, economics was the first business course I took that I thought, “This actually matters in real life.” {Not that accounting and income taxes don’t matter...I just didn’t have any real world experience with either.} Prof. L. Vischer was this young, intelligent professor who was really excited to teach us about economics. He expected us to be prepared, to be smart, and to think about how these economic principles were playing out in our country. Because we respected his expertise and his belief in us, we rose to the occasion. He was also one of the first professors I had who let his students know that he had life outside of teaching. As we weren’t kindergarteners, we knew he didn’t live in his office, but for him to be very straightforward about his priorities in life taught us that jobs are good, but family is more important. I was in his class when his second child was born. A little boy! I’ll never forget the way he talked about holding their child in the hospital, the feeling of being a father to a son, and his complete adoration of his wife...I think it made me teary. His wife, though I thought she would be fantastic as a person...well, I had my doubts about her class. I cannot begin to tell you how much I hated history. It had been the most boring, poorly taught {and poorly received}, most pointless subject I’d ever had. I was required to take two history classes. I took the first class first-semester my freshman year. It was so awful that I waited until the last semester of my senior year to take the second. I sat in my seat, awaiting the worst, when in walks Prof. M. Vischer - from her warm smile, to her coffee cup, down to her pointy-toe stilettos she exuded confidence and kindness. American History II - basically everything post-Civil War to current times - may have been my favorite class during my four years in college. And it was undoubtedly because she was teaching it. I honestly never understood or believed the importance and relevance of history on my life. Sure, it mattered for our country and stuff, but for me history was just a grade. She communicated its significance with such passion that even the history-haters had to admit: this was not only important, but interesting. She had us choose roles of people in history, research the person, and then be ready to sit down to a round-table discussion as if we were this person. As “Andrew Carnegie”, I had to defend my business practices when mill workers accused me of causing stressful work environments leading to strikes, lockouts, and hardships for their families. As “a white woman who did not believe in integration of schools”, I had to give reason for keeping races separate in schools. These roles pushed me to think in ways I would not naturally have thought and helped me to see that history is full of real people. I just always saw black and white portraits in text books, never thinking very much about the idea that this person lived and breathed and ate chicken and had a family. My view of history went from one-dimensional to 3-D, high definition in the course of a semester. Her final project for us sent me digging into my great-grandfather’s past as a bootlegger in the South, bringing history right into my backyard. Thank you, Vischers, for being incredible teachers of your given subjects and of life. Thank you, M for continuing to teach me through your beautiful, real blog. You are both extraordinary educators and my life is changed because of you.

This is the twenty-second post in the series 31 Days of Not Forgetting.
If you'd like to read previous posts in the series, click here and scroll to the bottom. 



Comments

  1. Jaz--
    What a thoughtful idea. Thanks so much for remembering me. I really enjoyed visiting you in Brno! May God continue to bless you!
    Laura Black

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  2. Jasmyn,

    You have given me "flowers for the living"--if not even the metaphorical equivalent of a million bucks! You are so right about the deferred rewards of teaching. Thank yous at graduations are nice, but "letters" written from the perspective of time are an even greater blessing.

    I always enjoyed you while you were at SWU. You didn't accept things and ideas on face value and you thought deeply--and obviously continue to do so.

    Thank you for this beautiful start to my day and weekend. I will treasure your lovely comments at the top of the other "flowers" I've gotten over my 38 years of teaching. May God give me another 38 years of students like you.

    Don Campbell

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