TEACHER
MODE: ON
“McCallister’s
residence, Sundy speaking,” I recited, as I answered the phone for the first
time.
My mother
had spent most of the day before, teaching my siblings and I how to answer a phone
correctly. Zane, G.J., and I sat in
front of clunky borrowed phones while Mom pretended to call us. She would pick up the phone in front of her
and then point to one of us as she made a ringing sound. In turns, we would answer with the correct
phrase, “McCallister’s residence, ______ speaking.”
Once we all answered
correctly, we were able to graduate to the real land-line phone with an extra-long
chord.
Mom was a
natural teacher. Before she had children
of her own, she taught elementary school.
She considered her students her kids. She was born to teach and was good at
it.
When I was born,
she willingly left her chosen profession to stay home with me. But she never stopped teaching. Her new classroom was our dining room table
and my siblings and I were her eager students.
Mom loved to
read novels to her students. She believed in the benefits of reading aloud to
kids.
Mom was a
great storyteller. She read aloud with
amazing expression and always used different voices for the various characters. My siblings and I would sit at her feet –
hanging on every word. When she read “Where
the Red Fern Grows” by Wilson Rawls, Zane, G.J. and I cried.
“A Wrinkle
in Time” by Madeleine L’Engle was my first foray into fantasy books. I was intrigued by the supernatural beings
who teleported Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin through the universe.
Mom let us
eat a few chocolate chips every time she sat down to read to us “Charlie and
the Chocolate Factory” by Roald Dahl.
I loved her
reading to me so much that I begged her to read to my own daughters years later
when we took a trip to Disneyland with her.
On that vacation, my mother read “Charlotte’s Web” aloud to my
girls. I felt nostalgic and sentimental
as I listened to my mother read to my girls and use special voices for
Charlotte and Templeton. The book was one
of my childhood favorites – my mother had read it to me.
Mom also
started a small business with a friend called The Woodchuck. She and Lynn Mortenson made wooden gifts to
sell at craft fairs. The Woodchuck quickly
became a learning experience for her children as well. Mom taught me how to stain, spray paint and
dot paint. I learned how to pick out #2
pine wood. She taught me to pray before
using the power tools, and she even allowed me to use the bandsaws and
sander. These skills have enriched my
life. Every time I use power tools, I
think of my mom and her life lessons.
My mom went
back to teaching fourth grade when I was in college. Every year she allowed me to come to her
classroom to teach, direct, and produce a performance with her students. She taught me through example and experience
how to be a patient, kind, and dedicated teacher. It was because of mom that I knew I wanted to
be a teacher when I grew up.
“Always be
teachable” my mother reminded me. I wish
I could still be her students. She loved
learning. She loved teaching.
She taught
me many valuable life lessons. One of
the most memorable: We are all students and teachers. We should often ask ourselves, “What did I
come here to learn? What did I come here
to teach?”
At least
that’s the way I remember it.
