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| I apologize for the dark, grainy yearbook photo of Mrs. P. |
I explained all of this already (sorry to repeat), but I admitted to feeling a bit out of order. That term caused a high school flashback circa 1989.
My high school math teacher used to have a place on the board labeled 'O.O.O.' Translation: out of order. If you were chatty, or not following along, Mrs. P stopped teaching and said, 'Ernie Shenanigan, you are out of order, please go write your initials under the O.O.O. on the board.'
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| One of my classmates appeared in the yearbook drawing a geographic shape in the board. |
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| Imagine a class full of girls swinging our arms to match the lines of the above hyperbola. |
My high school was the all-girls Catholic school variety. I, for one, felt more comfortable in a class where there were no intimidating boys. I was able to come out of my shell a bit. Perhaps a bit too much, because that landed me in O.O.O. on the regular.
On the first day of class, Mrs. P asked us what we preferred to be called. For example, if your legal name was Josephine, but you preferred to be called 'Jo' give a holler during attendance. My friend, Sara, randomly requested that she be called 'Sabrina'. From then on, Mrs. P called her Sabrina every day of class.
In order to explain a hyperbola, Mrs. P instructed us to stand up and sway our arms in the shape of the hyperbola. I admit that I have never needed the hyperbola formula since that day, but I can still demonstrate one with my limbs, if that is ever required of me.
Mrs. P died too young (maybe late 50's) of an asthma attack not long after I graduated from college. Now when I create a post filled with issues that are causing me to feel O.O.O., and I label it as such you will understand the terminology, and that I am honoring one of the greats.
Do you have a favorite teacher memory you can share?
12 comments:
I had many great teachers at my Catholic all girls high school though I hated that place. We were bussed there and couldn't participate in any extra-curricular activities. Otherwise, I received a good education there.
I have a few - Ms. Andrews, my second grade teacher. Sister Smiley (aka Sister Francis) in middle school, I can't remember what class/grade she taught but she was a joy to be around. I also had a high school teacher that I greatly admired, for the life of me I can't remember her name (Barbara? Something?) but I can remember her face as clear as day. Teachers have no idea the impact they make on some of their students.
My 8th grade History teacher, Mr. Houseman with a handlebar mustache was an excellent teacher. His ability to teach e made me really like American History, especially the American Revolution. To this day, I remember Lafayette's full and complete name. He was the Frenchman who helped us win our independence from Great Britain. Marquis Marie Josef Paul Yves Roch Gilbert Du Moiter de Lafayette. Boom! Mic drop! lol.
Another Mr. Houseman moment? We were required to write an essay about the American Revolution, in our own words. We would be graded by him for historical content, and the bitchy English teacher, Miss Shields would grade us for grammar, spelling, content, pretty much how well we could string words together. Mr. H gave me an A+ on my paper...while Miss S. gave me a C-. Her reasoning? Written across the top of the paper..."No 8th grader can write like this!" and she insinuated I must have copied it from somewhere. I was crushed, absolutely crushed, especially since I wrote the whole thing all by myself. Hey...who knows? With a little encouragement, I might have been a famous writer! All kidding aside, my 14 year old ego took quite a bruising...
I am sorry you did not enjoy going to school there. We do not live near enough to our high school (Coach went to the boys' school on the other side of the building) to send our kids there. That bummed me out. I felt like my experience there really shaped me. Lad struggled so much in grade school that I told Coach I wanted to find a way to send him there. It was a lofty wish.
I agree. I had many amazing teachers over the years. Not nexmcessarily because they stimulated my intellect but because they took an interest in me and challenged me to come out of my shell. Clearly by the time I was in this senior yr math class my shell was no longer an issue!
First of all, my dad would be super impressed by your reciting of Lafayette-s many names!
Secondly, that is a horrible story about Miss Shields! It reminds me of a HS Eng teacher who LOVED my older sister. Marie came home on break from college and I was freaking out about a paper for this teacher. Marie proofread it a million times and offered a ton of pointers. She swore I would get a A. Teacher did not like me though. I got a D!!! Different from your story- but kind of a reverse scenario. Bad teacher s suck!
I went to Catholic school for a few years, though it wasn't all-girls (and I'm not Catholic); my favorite memory is of Sister Jean, in fourth grade, reading to us after lunch each day to settle us down. Harriet the Spy, How To Eat Fried Worms...
OMG I am sad Mrs. P died so young and I don't even know her. :(
I went to public school so my memories might be a little different but I have written about my favorite teacher on my blog. Just search Mrs. Pierce in my blog search engine. She is a big reason I write to this day.
Thank God for good teachers.
She sounds like a very special soul and teacher. I like the OOO idea. If they had that in elementary school, I would have had a permanent spot right up there. :)
Wearing plaid while not a Catholic must have been quite the sacrifice! How I love a good teacher. Wish I had chosen that as my profession.
I know - it is so very sad. She was a quirky character and I would have enjoyed meeting up with her at reunions, etc. I will have to look up Mrs. Pierce - maybe when kids are in school. Holy Hell - this week! Between physicals and DMV and childcare last minute interviews I am going bananas over here. Um, today is the 10th - of August. 23 yrs ago - 'member?!
She was a hoot! I did not come out of my shell until high school, so I never would have dared to be OOO in grammar school. Something about the all girl school clicked with me and I was in my element. None of those pesky boys to intimidate me. I made a few sarcastic remarks under my breath and the teachers were on to me. 'Hey, you quiet one in the back - share with everyone, no really - you're funny. Let's hear it.' And I was born! Sometimes I am sad that my kids will not experience Catholic High School. Although, I cannot say enough good things about our public high school.
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