Teacher Appreciation – Day 2 St. Peter’s

So we continue down the road of looking at past teachers. Tonight is about my three-year stint in Catholic school. My one brother had entered St. Peter’s a year prior to my beginnings. It was a small school; one class per grade. The class average was in the low to mid-20s. I talked with my dad about switching schools during the first year of my brother’s attendance. It was not until a specific day in the summer that my want to try out St. Peter’s became solid. I met the principal.

I think my brother was doing some sort of activity in the summer. I can remember pulling up to the doors of the school with my mom and dad to await him. I looked out my window to see this short – I do mean short, less than 5 feet if I remember – lady weeding the flower beds. She turned when she heard our car pull up and stopped weeding to come say hello. For the next five minutes she carried on a conversation with my parents and me. She made it a point to include me even though I was only 10. She told jokes, had funny stories, and just seemed to know anything and everything. As she stood there in shorts, t-shirt, and hat, I thought that it was so cool that the gardener was so friendly. Near the end of the conversation, she asked my dad about the time. When my dad responded she jumped, I almost want to say an explicative came out of her, and she backed away from the car shouting, “I have to go pick up some nuns coming in from Rome. I’m late.” She waved and ran away. I asked my dad how he knew her. I was shocked when he told me that I had been talking with Sister Jean, the principal of the school. My dad enrolled me shortly thereafter.

Now I know that it is known that I am part of the public-school system. They pay my salary. However, I will admit that I find nothing wrong with the Catholic school system. I know that there are limitations in services offered for special needs children, but for the general student, it is just as good or better. For me it was better since I don’t do well with large numbers. This school was an introverts dream. The school had nuns in the lower classes and as the principal, outside of that we had regular teachers. I learned a lot in those three years. I would have continued on through high school if the cost hadn’t been a problem.

So going back to Sister, I believe that, even without her being one of my formal teachers, she taught me the most during those three years. The lesson I took from her was that you could be yourself while still doing what is expected of you. She never had a problem jumping into a game on the playground with the kids. I watched her dealing with the younger students give them comfort and love. She was as comfortable in a habit, yes they still wore them back then, as she was out in shorts and a t-shirt talking with parents. She didn’t put on a show. You got Sister when you were with her – not somebody she acted she pretended to be. Sadly, from what I can find, she passed in 2006.

At the same time, she could be strict. Man could she lay down the law. I often remember an incident when she was walking past our classroom while a person in the back of the room back-talked the teacher. This flash went by all of the students and, before anyone even knew she was in the room, she had the student by an earlobe while dragging him to the front to apologize to the teacher. She knew every time students were doing something they shouldn’t. We had a priest who ended each sentence “my friends.” The class decided to tally how many times he said it in one class. Somehow Sister found out about it and I can remember writing a good chunk of the A encyclopedia. These kids don’t understand how lucky they are that Britannica no longer prints their books. However, in the end, once the punishment was done so was Sister’s memory of the issue. She did not forget, but she taught me that all things end even reminding students of wrong-doings.

The other teacher that comes to mind from St. Peter’s is Mrs. Smith. She was the eighth-grade homeroom and English teacher. She gave me the first low mark that I can remember. I still think about having to have my dad sign the paper. Mrs. Smith was a person that emphasized the reading and following of instructions. After that one paper, I followed the instructions on the assignments. People think that it was the military that made me understand how to follow instructions – nope – it was Catholic School. Now this may seem like a bad thing – not allowing students to think outside of the box, but that was not always the case. Mrs. Smith made sure we knew when we could go free and times when we toed the line.

While the 6 – 8 grade students changed classes, it is Mrs. Smith’s name that I remember over the others. She knew how to engage us before that was even a buzz word. She connected with us. I still remember feeling sorry for her the one Christmas she sprayed tree scent in her apartment only to find she was allergic to it. Finally, she could take a joke. I can remember a rubber mouse on fishing line being pulled across the room, the entire class turned around, and other pranks. She never got upset. She taught me that you need to roll with the punches and laugh at life. She taught me how to survive in the world.

My time in St. Peter’s was short, but I learned a lot. I can remember having to travel to the local university for PE classes. I remember that it was not all about being Catholic – otherwise we would never have sung the 12 Days After Christmas where the singer shoots the partridge.

I learned that public school or private school. Both have great teachers who care about their students. Both have teachers who go above and beyond to make sure that this country has a future. Both give students a place to learn and grow. I think the only downside would have been that most of my classmates moved together on to Parochial High School. Considering that our class was three girls and the rest boys, I lost a chance to keep some friendships going.

So if you can, thank a teacher this week. Thanks for meandering with me tonight.