1. Br. Stephen, the Benedictine author and middle school theology teacher who was the first person who told me I was a good writer and also, later, the first person to articulate to me that boundaries were important (that sounds sinister but it wasn't--it was when we were penpals long after both of us had left the school where we met, and I was kvetching about friends' problems).
2. Mrs. Chott, the second grade artist and poet who taught me nothing but
Edna St. Vincent Millay and Shel Silverstein and how to paint flowers
with tempera on construction paper. Those will sustain you long after other lessons slip through your mind.
3. Coach Peacock, who understood that coming in 6th in regionals after a
season of learning how to run the 880 was actually something to
celebrate with high fives. She had a light hand at the rein and made me want to be faster. She taught me to run.
4. Dr. Barmann, who opened my eyes to bigotry as well as excellent
journalism and made me want to read medieval primary sources on
antisemitism. My only analytical historical class in college and oh, I almost missed it.
5. Dr. Murphy, the Boston Irish army veteran who taught me how to dream in Russian. Now he and my mother take Gaelic together.
6. Mr. May, the high school army veteran who taught me how to see in
Russian. Even if I don't know the word automatically, I can read it. It
is so natural to me that it surprises me when people can't pronounce
what they see.
7. Fr. Kavanaugh, who articulated the Catholic World View in humble Jesuit words (there are two types of Jesuits and he was the good kind).
8. Mr. Green, who taught me that art was more than drawing and that once people know you are good, there is no going back to being mediocre.
9. Mrs. Gabel who took that raw creativity that Br. Stephen encouraged and honed it into academic writing such that no paper, no essay, no 50 page masters thesis, can scare me now.
10. Dr. Bahr, who showed me just this past fall that I really lived and
breathed what I do for a living. I know things and I can show things and
I can teach.
What a beautiful tribute. And so great to be so aware of these influences, to this day.ReplyDelete