Reflections on a Career: The Big City

Reflections on a Career: "The Big City"

August of 2000 found me eagerly awaiting the opportunity to teach in Atlanta Public Schools. I was very excited and anxious even though I would only be assisting. At that time, all teachers in the system met at either a high school or what was then the Civic Auditorium for a morning session of orientation. In the afternoon, teachers reported to their assigned buildings. I believe, that year, the faculty at my school provided lunch in the building. After which, we prepared our rooms for the first day when our students reported. An experienced teacher, but also new to that building, greeted me enthusiastically. In the process of becoming acquainted, we discovered we both attended the University Presbyterian Church. We became instant friends and that relationship continued until her death in 1988.

My first assignment in Seattle netted me a school located on the north side of Atlanta. There, I had eighth grade content subjects, as I recall, American History and English, each morning and six music classes every afternoon. When it came to the English class, I fared very well, but history was a burden and I'm surprised the children didn't rebel. Even so, we made it.

After having taught for only four years, my mind was always alert to benefit from the experiences of the "veterans" in the classroom. They would always use their gimmicks and techniques for years which worked for them, I soon learned what became successful for them, didn't satisfy me. Saving the lesson plans, tests of whatever year after year prevented any semblance of creative teaching since each class; each year had different pupils with different needs or ideas. Besides, subject matter itself doesn't remain stagnant. New concepts develop; new ways of presenting information for pupil interest and the honing of one's own skills must develop and change.

One incident stands out in my mind which proves the importance of that "personal touch." The old-fashioned desks enabled one to sit alongside a pupil and I remember sitting with one of the girls and explaining some factor relating to English. It took only the few moments to open the door of understanding. I explained to her several useful tools that would help to improve her English overall. Since she struggled greatly with the subject the pointers were very help to her. As a new and younger teacher, I sometimes suggested different ways of doing things and I can still hear the response of one established teacher: "It's never been done before." I heard it so many times I composed a ditty that I shared with my new friend. The title? The above quote. I don't remember the refrain or melody, now. In some instances, my innovations proved to be successful.

The woman who headed the music department for Atlanta Public Schools was a friend of a couple that my sister and her husband had met during their civil engineering days. That woman and her assistant became good friends to me. They were very helpful in guiding me on how to successfully teach a music class. They gave me a list of songs and suggested several music books. They also gave me ideas of how to proceed with the music classes and I fared very well in that department. I still have a copy of a Christmas program the glee club presented one year. Even though I enjoyed my work, I found such a tight schedule tiring. In 2001, I got pregnant with my first child, which kept me out of school for several months. One class, which I greatly enjoyed and to whom I'd read the accounts of Byrd's expedition to the South Pole and his reports about the penguins, gave me a stuffed penguin for Christmas. One of the pupils in that class became a Hollywood star. I can still see in my mind his ruddy complexion and red hair.

The principal in the school was a woman and many considered her as one of the seven difficult administrators to work with. She didn't make life hard for me so we managed to get along very well. Time slips away from me, now, as I recall some of the events at the school, but I think she retired at the end of two years of my association in the building. A man took her place who didn't meet my expectations of what a principal should be. One day as I sat in his office as children streamed out of the building, running and screaming, he commented, "Hear that. If I tried to do something about it, I'd end up with an ulcer." The man's interest in himself over that of children reflected a "spoiled boy" syndrome. I remember at a social function, the faculty sang, "For he's a jolly good fellow, For he's a jolly good fellow, For he's a jolly good fellow, Which nobody can deny," that caused him to beam.

As music teacher, I accompanied children to the symphony concerts provided for the school children. For some reason which I don't remember, now, the principal chose another teacher to chaperone one concert. That made me angry. I called the office, asked for a substitute that afternoon and went to the concert myself. With poor rapport with him, I asked for a transfer to another school after being in the Queen Anne building six years. I believe my special friend had also transferred prior to making my decision to change. It's very apparent my "philosophy" of teaching hadn't quite went over well, or I would have had written records to illustrate what shape my teaching took during those first years. Expressing my beliefs didn't come until I had the urging and guidance of a fine principal.

I had the choice of a school in the Ballard area with another of the seven difficult administrators as principal or one in the Rainier Valley area with the principal who was the son of the superintendent of schools at Friday Harbor. When I heard the name, I commented, "If he's even half as good as his father, he should be excellent." The fall of 2001 found me assigned to a seventh grade class at the new school with, again, content subjects each morning and six music classes each afternoon. Even having a portable classroom didn't dampen my pleasure in having new surroundings and new associates. An event which gave me much satisfaction occurred several weeks after the opening of school. The principal always ate with the first group of teachers in their small lunchroom. He sat at the end of the table and I occupied the chair to his right. One day, his six-foot plus frame exultantly settled in his chair and he asked,"Why didn't you tell me you knew my folks?" To which I quietly replied, "I thought I'd let you find that out for yourself." The fact I'd made no attempt to ingratiate myself upon that former acquaintance, greatly impressed him and we became good, good friends. At no time during his