Don't Fear The Teacher!

I remember when I first started school, my life changed. Every child's does I suppose.  Instead of being under the supervision of your parents, you're under the supervision of a teacher.

A stranger.

 This is something that children learn to adapt with at an early age. Once they've been conditioned to follow their parents rules, now they have to learn a whole new set of rules.

Oh, Joy.

Maybe my experience was a little bit different because I went to a Catholic school for 1st through 5th grade. But when I left my school where I went to kindergarten, it all changed. 

The rules were no longer focused on fun, but on the  rules themselves. 

 When children are young, they are taught to raise their hands when they want to answer a question, ask the teacher when they have to go to the bathroom, they are taught how to read and write.  They were being taught this at a young age, to allow for them to "behave" in all future classrooms.

The teacher is a scary figure at first, tall and short hair with dark glasses in a class of 30. She is a stranger in the flesh. The teacher is your leader, your master. She punishes you for misbehaving, when you still don't know what that word even means. 

Then the students became AFRAID of the teacher. 

They don't allow for smart-alec remarks, or mouthing off, but for conformity and keeping children in line. Children learn to obey at an early age for the rest of their days in the classroom.

If you think about it, educational systems and the home are where most children learn that they should obey. 

As I got older in my school years, I slowly became more accustomed to the whole "school" thing. I hated the work load because it was a lot of work for a 1st grader. I would have five subjects to do in one night. My first grade teacher was tough. 

For the next year, I met a teacher who was just too mean for me to learn. Her name was Mrs. R. She was a nasty lady who taught me to fear the teacher even more. She would yell and shout at us for talking, she wrote in cursive when we had not been taught it, and would yell at me for sneezing. I felt like I was in a prison cell for the rest of the day. I would be free when we got to lunch, unless she was there, we still couldn't pee. When she yelled at me, she humiliated me in particular.

 She made me feel useless for trying to solve a problem. She didn't like my sister and I because we were "teacher's kids."

All the teachers in school made us feel pretty crappy when we made a mistake. So then we became more nervous that we’d make another. They yelled and humiliated us. I've tried to block out that memory, because it was a dreadful experience.  

We learned to fear the teacher and not question it because, God forbid, she made a mistake. She never made a mistake.

In my fifth grade year, I began to get mouthy, and had a few standoffs with my teachers and classmates. At that point, I just didn't care what any of them had to say.  I was so fed up with teachers and students alike.  I started to become a rebel--- By not wearing my knee socks. I almost got suspended for not wearing my knee socks. 

I wish I were kidding. 

It wasn't until I made it to high school and college, where things started to pick up. So, I started asking questions and following the teacher’s rules, most of my teachers in high school were pretty chill. I did however have a few that were nutty. 

Of course in high school, the processes and procedures were the same. 

Attend Class
Come Prepared
Raise your hand

Do your Homework
Line up to go outside for gym class

Ask to use the rest room

Study hard…
and blah blah blah. 

Then I got to college. More specifically, the ATC at Luzerne County Community College. That was the day I met Ed. 

Not Mr. Ackerman, Ed and Jim. Not just Jim, but Jim Rising. 

They broke all the rules of school that any of the classmates of my generation were taught.

Obey.

 I didn't have to fear these guys. The “Mr.” or “Mrs.” was demolished from ATC vocabulary. 

The instructors weren't scary! These guys were human with a sense of humor. I've learned more lessons from my college professors than my whole time dealing with administrative crap to keep "us in line" through high school and grade-school. 

Ed gave us quarters for saying things that were cool, things that were funny, things that were intelligent, and things that were just plain worth a quarter -- Or a dollar, or 5 dollars. He taught us to "never do anything for free."

 I never missed one of Ed's classes, because he always had a lesson to teach and sometimes it didn't relate to academics. 

When I finally took a class with Andy (not Mr. Petonak), he brought me to a realization. Writing is hard work and writing like an English teacher would want you to is frowned upon -- Because let's face it, the less words, the better, but he also taught me a very important lesson more important than anything about the journalism craft.

He taught me a little something about integrity.

He  said that "you have a right to disagree and  you have a right not to use my advice." His job is to offer us advice, not force us to write the way he writes. 

His word was not gospel and that was the first time I had ever been taught that. He is not Mr. Petonak, he is Andy. College is not just somewhere where I do my course work and go home. It is a place where people can be people and blur the lines between teacher and friend.

College is a place where it isn’t just about learning material on the midterm, but learning material on life’s exam.