Teacher Traits

    Years ago I was asked to name the single most important trait a successful teacher should have. At the time, my response was, “An elastic sense of humor.” Recently I was asked the same question.  After decades of teaching, my answer is “a toss-up between patience, perseverance, and thinking on your feet.”

    Literature in the Media began with a blown bulb in the projector. Not easily reparable as this was one of the new mega-gimmicky attached-to-the-ceiling wireless projectors whose bulbs are viciously expensive. “Not a problem,” noted the school’s media equipment Mr. Fixit, “It’s still under warranty. I’ll put in the order right now.” So he whipped out his iPhone and dialed. Of course, no one had either an empty classroom or an available portable projector that period, so I took Coach John Heisman’s famous advice, “When in doubt, punt.” In the remaining minutes of class, the students and I discussed what made a movie “Good,” Bad,” “Passable,” or “A Waste of Time.” The depth of their responses led me to create a course whose purpose was to teach critical media literacy.

    First Period AP Literature started off normally as the students wrote their bell-ringer journal entries on a Debussy quote while his music played in the background. I opened the discussion of the assigned chapter of Thomas C. Foster’s How to Read Literature Like a Professor (a text the students enjoyed even more than I anticipated) in my normal fashion; “Anyone have any questions or comments?” After several minutes of interested back-and-forth, Katie raised her hand and asked, “Ms. Mayer, what’s phallic mean?” I hesitated for a second, thought, “This is AP and they are seniors in high school.” and answered, “It’s an adjective reference to a penis.” Total silence.  Katie looked stunned, gathered herself and said, “What? How is that a symbol?”  I explained the symbolism and how it could be used in characterization, for example, if applied to a car or perhaps a stereo system and that the reference was not always attached to shape. “Oh,” Katie nodded. “So, it’s like a ‘mine’s bigger than yours’ type thing. That is so cool. I have got to remember that.” Needless to say, it took work and focus to get the class back on the task of discussing the remainder of Professor Foster’s chapter on possible meanings of communion.

    The next two sections of AP began with students walking in the door asking if we were really going to be talking about phallic symbolism. I sighed each time, considered the amazingly efficient communication network that exists in high school hallways, and basically repeated my initial remarks and the inevitable forcing of minds back to the assigned topic.

    I looked forward to Speech I because I thought nothing could complicate an impromptu about modes of transportation. During an impromptu, I place a list of topics on the lectern, and call the students up at random to speak on a topic for 60 seconds.  This day’s list was 42 modes of transport from kayak to elephant. All went well for three speakers, then, Halley looked up from the list and asked, “What’s a stagecoach?”  I replied. She decided to choose “motorcycle.” Four speakers later, Kris asked, “What’s a wagon train?” Again, I explained. He opted for “camel.” Nine more students spoke, then, Chance asked, “What’s a carriage?” I told him and he chose “scooter” and quipped, “I hope it was the kind that had a gasoline engine.”

    Some days I was certain I was making a difference in the lives of children and other days I was equally certain they were put on this earth to test my desire to teach. On those latter days, I reminded myself of two things: (1) the half-century between our ages meant an enormous cultural gap exists and (2) there’s always tomorrow.

   Who knew Scarlett O’Hara was a sage?