Teacher, teacher!

I spent about a decade doing training for the company I work for. One of the classes I co-facilitated taught the participants basic presentation skills.

The first thing that pops to mind about this class was that we opened it by discussing people's great fears about taking this training. It turns out there are two things that cause cold sweats and dread among folks: death and public speaking. Which, in turn, begs the question: if you are attending a funeral, would you prefer to give the eulogy or to be the guest of honor?

Sorry, we call that a bunny trail in the training world. I was fortunate to do this class many times with some truly remarkable people. One of my favorites was an exceedingly kind colleague from Texas named Patti. She would do this exercise to highlight some adult learning principles, in which participants were asked to list characteristics of the best and worst teachers they ever had. In every class, people came up with similar characteristics for each; I would guess that your own listing would bear resemblance as well. After observing Patti lead this section a few times, it finally dawned on me: our favorite teachers were the ones who treated us like adults, who had passion for their topic, who treated each student as a unique individual. Our worst teachers were the ones who simply went through the motions, appearing disinterested. When I mentioned this to Patti, I got this all-knowing look, as she was far too kind to remark at how truly obtuse I can be.

One of my daughters is currently earning her masters degree in how to teach American Sign Language. We have had many discussions since she began this field of study about learning styles, techniques, concepts and, sadly, the general disregard in which teachers are held. We are now in this back-and-forth discussion about the TV show, Friday Night Lights.

While my daughter and I do disagree about the comparative objectionable behaviors of some of the characters on the show, we are in complete accord about the portrayal of the two main characters, Tami and Eric Taylor, by Connie Britton and Kyle Chandler, respectively. My attraction to the two stems from those lessons I saw imparted by my friend Patti in that training class.

In the corporate world, I have seen countless examples of poor training, which have included yelling, two-way arguments, the trainee stalking off the job and the supervisor actually firing them on the spot. My first reaction is horror that so many people have forgotten how to teach someone else how to perform a task; my second is to resolve never to return to that place of business.

Then I took a golf lesson. Here I am, paying about $100 for an hour of someone's time. I am long past my athletic prime and possess modest skills in this area. During this hour, I have one-on-one time with someone who is encouraging of the skills I do have. I will walk away from the session with confidence that I have been able to improve at least one facet of my game, which results in an actual improvement.

This is much of what I hear from my daughter as well, as she relates tales of student teaching in a grim, urban school. She has had some setbacks, but even more successes. Her triumphs occur when she takes a particular interest in a student, investing the power of her personality in treating this person as a unique individual with a particular learning style. All this, so that she can make a salary about one-fifth of what most politicians earn annually from making speeches to audiences who agree with most of what they say. That is perhaps the topic for another post...

Every day, I read that some state or local government is cutting teacher salaries or eliminating tenure or doing something else to make teaching even more difficult. I have a colleague who is asked to contribute $150 a year to her child's public school, to pay for such things as hand soap and toilet paper. All this in a country that is experiencing another decline in the performance of its students in math and science, falling further behind other countries in the world. For this, we blame teachers?

My job is to be a part of a management team at a hotel. Last summer, we had a youth baseball group staying with us. Their parents and coaches were hanging out at the pool one afternoon, drinking bottles of beer. I politely asked them to use plastic cups, as glass containers and swimming pools are a poor mixture. I even gave them the cups to do so. These guests told me, in rather harsh language, that I had no business telling them what to do, as they were such good, loyal customers. My instinct was to respond in kind. My experience, however, has taught me that arguing with a customer does, at best, only escalate the cost of solution. Instead, I asked if any of them watched Friday Night Lights. Many nodding heads ensued. I told them that they reminded me of a character on that show. No, not Eric Taylor, but Joe McCoy (for you non-fans, he was the father of the young stud quarterback who was reluctant to pay his dues). Head scratching and silence ensued. The next morning, they all came to me and apologized for their actions.

It's not radical to believe that everything good about life, I learned from my parents and from teachers. I learned values, tolerance, wisdom and a wealth of knowledge about topics ranging from geography to mathematics to faith that prepared me how to think and, concurrently, how to live my life. I could not begin to write all that I learned from the great teachers I have been blessed to experience, let alone put it on a bumper sticker.

As it is Valentine's Day, in addition to doing something sweet for a loved one, remember a teacher. Someone who taught you how to use your rational processes, gave you a life lesson you still use today, who showed you a path that you did not know existed before, who took you to a place you would not have gone by yourself. Your Eric or Tami Taylor, if you will, because each of us has had the benefit of at least one encounter with a teacher so memorable. If you can't find that teacher, tell a loved one about this person and how they changed your life.

So, to Sister Mary Robert, Brother Michael, Brother Damian, Dr. Brown and Professor Duncan, thank you for the lessons, for inspiring passions in me that I did not know existed. Thank you for showing me the joys of learning. Thank you also for helping me to realize who I was to become in my life. Thank you also to Patti and to the many others who led me on a path as an adult learner. I am privileged to have shared time with each of you.