One In Particular.

This is a really nice story, thank you for sharing it with us.

I have a teacher right now. Like someone said up here, it seems he was born for the job - he instilled in me a passion for his subject by being so passionate yet careful himself. but no one else seems to notice... and I'm not exactly happy that he's (sort of) unnoticed by most, but it makes me feel good for recognizing his specialness. I mean, the other kids think he's funny, but they don't see what a beautiful person he is. there are things he reveals about himself, small things in class discussions, light-heatedly and all, but it makes me marvel at him. i talked to him about a personal situation and I could feel his genuine care. I've never been able to tell him this. I hope he's happy for the rest of his life

I am a college professor, and I think it is an honor to have the opportunity to make such an impression on my students! Thanks for posting your story.

Wonderful story and wonderful comments.

This is the kind of story that just makes my day. Thank you so much...I too wish you had been able to reconnect but in a way you have by sharing with us.

That is really great that she had such an impact on your life. I have a professor who is doing the same for me now :)

Thank you for your story Wading. I love reading about the impact teachers have on our lives. I shared the following in another category, but I think this spot is more appropriate. I apologize to those that already read it there, but these two teachers I speak of were amazing people. I have tried to locate them both, but to no avail.



Here goes again,



"My mom was a single starving artist on welfare living in San Francisco. We lived in an illegal apartment where the toilet was in our kitchen. Hence, I never had anyone over to play. As a young girl, the other girls were very cruel, if not downright mean. My clothes were from thrift stores (where I still shop today), my style was strange and I was definitely never popular. One of the hardest things for me was Fridays. Other kids would be talking about sleepovers, their friends inviting them and never me. Once I finally did get invited to a sleepover, I ended coming home by 9pm devastated and in tears. I had boy’s pajamas and the girls were ruthless. My mother in her usual way, made a big stink (if it could have been political she would have found a way) and I never lived it down in school.



She soon realized that I belonged in a special school. We were lucky that SF in the 70’s was big on setting up alternative charter schools. I ended up in one of those alternative schools. There were two teachers there that truly shaped who I am today. One was Ms. M (I won’t use her name) and the other was Mr. G. To this day I am so grateful to them both. All the kids in this school were different and our uniqueness was celebrated. We definitely did not learn in a traditional way. Two field trips stick in my mind to this day and I am blessed to have experienced them. Back then I did not realize how lucky I was to experience history in the making first hand.



Number ONE field trip:



Ms. M set up a field trip for us to go and interview “a very important person” (her words). I had no clue who we were meeting. I remember being excited, a little bit intimidated, and very curious. At the time we were studying politics and Ms. M was very opinionated, passionate and way ahead of her time (I am surprised that the SF school system allowed her curriculum – if they even really knew what she was doing).



We walked into this office in Oakland, California and I knew right away that this was important. It was the office of Bobby Seale, the co-founder of the Black Panther Party. Here I was this little girl meeting one of the most historical figures in the history of the Black Panthers and I had no clue. He was such an amazing man. He told us about the 10 Point Platform and more specifically about Point # 5 “We want decent education for our people that exposes the true nature of this decadent American society. We want education that teaches us our true history and our role in the present-day society”. At the time, he was running for Mayor of Oakland and later would go on to finish 2nd in a very close run-off race. I wish I could remember more about the interview. Luckily, I kept a journal (which I just recently found again), so most of this is from my own written history. He told us he had been a political prisoner; he told us about Huey Newton, I left the interview that day thinking, “What can I do to help change the world?” - This of course coming through the eyes of a very precocious 12 year old.



Number TWO field trip:



Mr. G set up a 2 week field trip for the summer break and described it as a “working adventure”. Boy what an adventure it turned out to be! A field trip related to politics, human rights, fair labor, decent working conditions and more. Another trip I will never forget (even though some of the details are a bit fuzzy).



A big yellow school bus from the San Francisco Unified School District transported us from SF to a very HOT town southwest of Bakersfield called Keene, California (later known to us as “La Paz”). We were on our way to meet Cesar Chavez, his family and learn the plight of the Farm Workers. Another amazing man – we only met him twice during our two week stay, but became quite close to some of his 8 children and his wife. Thank goodness for my journal (through the eyes of a 13 year old) or I never would have remembered so many things that have historical significance to me.



At the time, Cesar Chavez had only been living in Keene for about two years. His new headquarters for the UFWOC was called “La Paz” and it had recently received its charter from the AFL-CIO and had become a full fledged union. As a kid, I really didn’t understand what this meant until Cesar put it in simpler terms for us. He said that the farm workers (grape pickers, lettuce, etc.) were being taken advantage of, were paid very little, and had terrible working conditions and no security. By becoming a union, the farm workers had banded together to improve conditions.



In 1973, the farm workers' three-year contracts were up for re-negotiation with the grape growers. This time, the grape growers signed with the Teamsters. The Teamsters did not represent the farm workers, and 10,000 farm workers in California walked out of the fields in protest. The strike began in the Coachella and San Joaquin valleys. Many of the striking farm workers were arrested or beaten. Some were shot and killed. To stop the violence, Cesar called off the strike after three months, and called for a national wide protest of grapes. I don’t think I ate grapes again until I was 20.



We stayed at La Paz which had dormitory style living where we slept and ate, and we had to work like the farm workers under very harsh conditions. Every day it was over 100 degrees and we all worked outside. Unfortunately, I did not get assigned to any actual farming/picking type duties. I was given dump duty. The compound was old and there was a lot of garbage, old wood from dilapidated structures that we had to clean-up, tear apart and take to the dump. The work was hard, but the company was fun. All of the kids from our class met and became close with many different people, including Cesar Chavez’s family. Evenings were the most fun, as we cooked, ate together with his family, learned their culture, snuck cigarettes and acted like the young teenagers we were.



To this day, I treasure the time we had at La Paz, the friends made and all that we learned.



Both of these teachers helped shape who I am today; my political values; how I view the world; my belief that helping others will help me. At the time, I didn’t realize what they had done for me. I secretly always wanted to be like the “popular, normal kids” - I am so happy that never happened. I undoubtedly would be very different than the person I am today.

You can just tell from that picture what a sweet and caring lady she was. Teachers can make such a difference in people's lives and it is nice to know she touched your life in such a positive way. Now pay it forward!!!

If we are lucky, we meet special teachers who seem born for the job. They instill a love of education in us, a curiosity about learning. After they pass it along, it is then our turn to do the same.

Thanks for this story. Thank you to all the inspirational teachers out there.

Thank you, Treefrogz. It does personalize it a bit more.



Yes, she was a sweetheart. As nice of a person as I've ever met. And highly intelligent, with a lifetime of experiences to talk about.

Thanks, Treefrogz. I will.



I wish I had, Weretree.

I hope Ms. McMillen is, too, Lacilove. I'm sure she would love hearing from you.



I found a photo of Mrs. Johnson yesterday. One that I took for the college newspaper. It won't be good quality, since it's in an old newspaper, but I may scan it and add it to the story.

i had a teacher in high school who is soo amazing how calm and collected she was her name was dee mcmillen she was my favorite teacher and i hope she is still living cause i just like talking to her also

Wading, great story; she sounds like a lovely lady. Teachers can make such a difference, especially when home life lacks someone to look up to.

The fact that you care means that you are well on your way. After a parent's love, nothing affects a person's life more than a caring teacher.



Thank you for caring, both about your students and enough about my story to comment.

I am a teacher...

and stories like this mean SO MUCH to us. I wish you would have had the chance to share this with her. It would have meant the world to her.

I know she knew she was a gifted teacher though because she really took the time to invest in her students educational needs, and life experiences.

i hope to be half the teacher she is someday.

Well, Ciiel, I wasn't as lucky as you with some of my teachers. But Mrs. Johnson was the best. Undoubtedly, one of the sweetest women I have ever met.

Over the seven years in the bookstore, I met many other special teachers.



These were women and men who took money out of their own pockets to buy certain books for their students because there was something they wanted to share with them.



I only saw that side of them as proof, but that was proof enough. With that dedication, it had to be just a trace of what they gave in other ways.

(((Sweetie)))

Thank you so much for your comment, Edward. I envy your chance to reach those important to you.



Sadly, I found out the day after my story that Mrs. Johnson had died on February 27, 2001. My girlfriend found her obituary and told me about it.



She died in a nursing home at the age of 88, and was cremated.



I do wish I would have had the chance to talk to her again. She meant a great deal to me.



After I found out, I cried a while, then realized that I was so much better off for having known her in the first place.



I feel her loss, but am thankful for her presence.