That’s My Mother

Teaching a class of 9th grade students would be a challenge to almost anyone but especially to me as a 4th year teacher. I had recently moved from junior high to high school and was, of course, assigned basic classes. At the time about which I’m writing, I had nearly finished my first year of teaching at the high school level, and I was faced with a drop-in observance by the Supervisor of English, Dr. Margaret Howell. Dr. Howell was an awesome lady, commanding great respect from the teachers she supervised, including me. I was therefore very much concerned that, during the visit, my students would freeze up and not respond to my plan for discussing a story they had been assigned to read in their literature book. How in the world could I possibly create a natural situation with the Supervisor of English in the room? I had a plan. I would tell my students that she was my mother and just dropping by. Dr. Howell wasn’t old enough to be my mother, but then 9th graders aren’t so observant. When Dr. Howell arrived, I almost ignored her but motioned for her to take a seat in the rear of the classroom. The discussion of the short story went beautifully, making me proud of my 9th grade brood. When Dr. Howell left, one of the students looked at me and said, “She’s real pretty.” When I retired from teaching, Dr. Howell spoke, remembering the day she visited my classroom as my mother.

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About bobosbest

I am a 79-year-old retired English teacher whose writing goals are fulfilled by publishing these blogs. I have a wonderful married partner, Dimitris Tsitsiras, who is from Greece. Life is good and still an adventure.
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One Response to That’s My Mother

  1. arcadian48 says:

    Excellent story. Also, great to see you yesterday, if only for a moment. Wasn’t the music great???

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