Teachers Who Shaped Me

The more I delve in to Carol Dweck's Mindset: The New Psychology of Success (How We Can Learn To Fulfill Our Potential), the more I consider how I discovered my own potential as a learner.  This morning that got me to thinking about a series of blog posts (or just one long entry) on those teachers who impacted me the most.

I'll examine them in chronological order.

Now, before I list them, let me note here that this list is by no means exhaustive.  I believe very much in the old quote, "when the student is ready, the teacher will appear."  So this is not to imply that other teachers I've had have not impacted me.  I believe the ones who impacted me the most, though, did so at key junctions in my life when I was most ready to grow and learn.

I don't want that, however, to detract from the impact these teachers had on my life.  I'm quite certain that had I had less talented teachers at these moments, I wouldn't have grown as much regardless of how I was ready to grow and learn.

So here we go.

#1.  Myrtle Baril.  My grandmother.  By the time I came around in life, Granny had retired from teaching elementary school at Knox in TRF.  While my mother never really had a full-time job, and thus stayed home to raise me, I nevertheless spent many, many hours over at my grandmother's apartment.  It was an idea laboratory.  Granny was never short on games, construction paper, glue, markers, Crayons, fingerprints, toys, and so on.

My imagination was on overload whenever I went there.  I cannot express how important this was to my cognitive development.  I was constantly drawing, painting, building, and creating.

One of my favorite things to do was to settle onto Granny's lap in her large green recliner and page through the latest issue of either National Geographic (my personal favorite) or Boy's Life.  We also would page through a random volume of her Collier's encyclopedias that were housed on her bookshelf.

I credit Granny with instilling in me a love for stories.  I recall vividly one day lying down with her for a nap.  This was always prefaced with a story.  This time, though, she told me one about a brave warrior.  This was perfect for me as I had just finished telling her all about the movie on HBO I had watched with my older brother, Conan The Barbarian.

As I snuggled next to Granny, she began to tell me about a brave warrior who was called to fill an obligation to the king of a neighboring land.  It seems this king was under siege by a monster who would come to his land and kill his men.

So the warrior had his men lay around the fire in a circle on their first night.  Sure enough, the monster came and began to kill his men.  All the while, though, this warrior pretended to be sleeping, waiting for the monster to grab him.

Sure enough, when the monster got to our hero, the warrior grabbed the monster by the hand in the type of grip the monster had never known before.  In fact, the grip was so strong that the warrior ended up ripping the monster's arm from its socket (that was my favorite part of Granny's story).

Defeated and roaring in pain, the monster fled the kingdom and was defeated.

I can't recall whether that was the end of the story or if Granny told more.  I just remember lying there looking at my own shoulder and thinking about what kind of strength it must take to rip my arm from its very own socket.  Then I began to imagine what that must actually feel like.

Let me tell you, I didn't nap at all, even though Granny did.  I just laid there staring at my arm trying to fathom what that would feel like.

Of course, it was years later in an Intro to British Literature class at NCTC that I encountered this very same story again.  I realized it was the Anglo-Saxon classic, Beowulf!

That was how amazing Granny was, for bedtime stories she recounted the classics to me.

#2.  Mr. Mueller.  I had Mr. Mueller twice in elementary school.  I'm not totally sure what grade I had him for the first go around (fourth maybe), but I know I ended elementary school with Mr. Mueller in sixth grade.

Several things stand out to me about Mr. Mueller.  First, I really fell in love with reading for the first time in his class (and I don't know if this was during my first class with Mr. Mueller or when I had him in sixth grade).  This was when I came across Lloyd Alexander's series The Chronicles of Prydain.  Those books filled my boring afternoon bus rides to the country, and they are some of my best memories of elementary school.  Mr. Mueller encouraged us to read during our free time, and I absolutely devoured this book series.

In fact, one of my most vivid memories from elementary school was when we had "library time."  Mrs. Purath, our librarian, would sit us all down on the steps and share a few books with us.  Well, as it turns out, she shared The Book of Three (which is the first book in The Chronicles of Prydain) with the class.  I had read it already, and I'll never forget the pride I felt at raising my hand and proudly declaring that I had read it and that it was excellent.  However, that pride was also mixed with a strong dose of jealousy.  I felt so protective of that book.  As if Alexander had written it just for me!  How dare anyone else read it and have the same type of experience.

But it wasn't just Alexander's works that I fell in love with during Mr. Mueller's classes.  I remember reading several collected works on werewolves (I could take your right now to the very spot where they were shelved in the circular library at JA Hughes) and other monsters.  I read several Louis L Amour books too as well as The Hardy Boys.

But I think the two most pivotal moments that really shaped me as both a learner and future teacher in Mr. Mueller's sixth grade class were the grandparent essay contest in which I placed third and his mock game show To Tell The Truth.

Placing in the grandparent essay contest instilled in me a love for writing (but by that time I had already written hundreds of song lyrics and dozens of short stories).  Then having Mr. Mueller cast me as the game show host (the lead role) in To Tell the Truth, instilled in me confidence, voice, style, and as much as I never thought this would ever happen - a love of the spotlight.  I use every one of those skills on a daily basis when I teach.  I've written about this transformative experience at length before.  So here is the link.  I think it was THE pivotal moment in my elementary school education.  Had Mr. Mueller cast me as anything other than the lead role (and then had he not forced me to keep the role, even though I so wanted to swap roles with Dale Vatthuer), I don't know if I'd be a teacher today.

#3.  Mrs. Christianson.  While Mr. Mueller made me want to be a teacher, it was Mrs. Christianson who made me want to be an English teacher (which, for me, is the greatest job in the world).  And like with Mr. Mueller, I've written about Mrs. Christianson at length in the past.  Here is the link.

 Besides being the first to ever publicly share my work - and make me realize that I wanted to do for other students what she had done for me (which was to make students feel worthwhile and to connect their private passions with what is studied in school) - Mrs. Christianson taught me the power of thinking outside of the box.

Unlike most of my other high school teachers, Mrs. Christianson just didn't give routine busy work type assignments.  For example, when we read The Outsiders, we not only had short journal assignments and basic reading guides to keep us on track, but we also had short writing prompts.  The assignments gave us a wide array of options, from drawing a scene from the book to writing a different ending.  For a kid who had grown up on creativity (thanks to Granny) and was growing into a ham (thanks to Mr. Mueller), this came at the absolute perfect time for me.

The two assignments from The Outsiders that I recall most vividly involved writing a poem about a theme of the book (I still have this assignment in a folder in my desk at school) and taking a scene and writing your own original take on it.

I chose to take the scene where Johnny is walking home and comes across some Socs in the park (forgive me if this is not totally accurate.  I have not read the book since 9th grade.  But I still recall (or at least think I do) it so vividly because Mrs. Christianson did such a fabulous job teaching it).  In my story, they harass him and Johnny climbs a massive pine tree while one of the Socs climbs up after him.  Johnny gets to the top and thinks he's in for it when the Soc slips and gruesomely (of course, this was my favorite part to write) hits every single branch before fatally landing at the bottom.  Like my poem, I still have this assignment (with Mrs. Christianson's fabulous comments on it) in my folder.  When I read it from time to time, I see that I pretty much ripped off Stephen King, for I make use of his internal-dialogue style to give voice to Johnny's thoughts.  But for a freshman in high school, it wasn't bad.

Other highlights from that year with Mrs. Christianson: writing mock commercials that we would then present to the class.  I did one on a watch aimed at businessmen.  I remember Mrs. Christianson being very impressed.  Then my friend, Simon, told her that I actually copied it from an actual add (I didn't).  After class, she explained that I shouldn't do that.  Then I proudly defended my work as original.  It just made me feel good that my mock commercial was good enough to make my teacher thing I had stolen it from an actual commercial.  Of course, it didn't help that Simon was trying to rain on my parade!

Toward the end of the year, we were asked to write our own original short stories.  Then the class voted on which ones to read.  Mine was voted one of the top stories.  I didn't want to read it in front of the class, so my friend Lon was going to do it.  But there was no way he could decipher my cursive, so I ended up reading it to the class.  At one point in the story, I actually had a joke in there that had the whole class laughing. The only thing I regret about this was that Simon had written a story and he had included an "About the Author" section about himself.  I wish I would have thought of that!

In short, Mrs. Christianson made every class period interesting, creative, and engaging.  It really wasn't anything like school at all!  It was like being at my grandmother's apartment again.

Every single day I teach, I try to live up to the standard Mrs. Christianson set in 9th grade.

#4.  Dr. Drake.  The first college class I ever had was American Lit from Dr. Drake.  This was vital to me as a learner and teacher because it showed me how much work I had to do.  Now that I'm reading Mindset by Carol Dweck about the importance of having a growth-mindset, I can easily see that this came about as a result of Dr. Drake's class.

On the very first day of class, she put up on the board several key dates and events from American history.  To be honest, I only knew one or two.  But several students knew many of them.  I sat there and furiously took notes.  It was at this moment that I realized just how little I really knew.  Now if I were a fixed mindset person, that might have been the end of me right there.  I would have dropped out quickly and made my way to one of the local industries in town.

Instead, I realized I had to put two very important factors to use quickly: time and effort.

It took me awhile to realize that though.  After all, like many new college students, it took me a bit to adjust.  After all, I hadn't been the hardest working high school student.  So I was trying to just get by with minimal effort.

That was until the day Dr. Drake assigned Melville's "Bartleby, the Scrivener."  I actually tried reading it.  But Melville's prose was dense (and it still is!) and I couldn't hack it.  After all, the text (for me at the time) was just something I had to get through, not something I actually had to learn from.  So I quit reading it.

The next day, Dr. Drake began the class by discussing the story.  I sat down to Greg, who happened to be from RLF and was just a couple years older than me.  I asked him if he had read it, "nope," he said.

I figured I was safe.  After all, I had pulled this off dozens of times in high school.

Then Dr. Drake called on me.  "Kurt, what did you think of the story?"

Uh-oh.  I froze.  So I did what I always did when this happened, I tried to fluff my way through.

"It was interesting," I said.

"I agree," Dr. Drake said peering at me and starting to walk toward me.  "Now tell the class why you thought it was interesting."

Oh shit. I'm a deadman.

"Well, Bartleby was an interesting character," I lied.

"Okay.  Why?" Dr. Drake asked again, now just a step away from our table.

"Uh . . . I didn't read it!"  I had to confess.

It was at this point that Dr. Drake walked right up to where I was sitting, took her glasses off, blinked furiously at me, put her glasses back on, and then said, "Greg, what did you think of the story?"

"Well, Dr. Drake. I read it, but I'm gonna be honest here, I didn't understand it at all!" Greg said.

What?  I should have said that! I thought.  I'm an idiot!

"That's a very good point, Greg," Dr. Drake said.  "Let's talk about that . . ." and mercifully, she went back to the podium at the front of the room and was off discussing the complexities of Melville's style.

I wanted to crawl under a rock and die.  I was hurt and humiliated.  Worst of all, I should have come up with the same lie Greg had!

But I didn't.  And later I would realize just how good it was.

I proceeded to bomb our next test.  Here I was just a few weeks into fall quarter, and I had a D in American Lit.  How could I ever be an English teacher if I couldn't hack American Lit?

Then it dawned on me, I have to work harder.  And I did.  I read every thing that was assigned.  I actually reviewed all the notes I had taken (something I had never ever done in high school).  I did better on the next test.

And though I didn't know it all those years ago, I was discovering what Dweck term's the "growth mindset."  In short, that means that intelligent and talent isn't innate.  It can be developed through time and effort.

And that is precisely what I poured into Dr. Drake's class.

My lucky break came when Dr. Drake gave us a chance at extra credit.  I jumped at it. I chose to read Moby Dick and write a research paper on it.  And I did.  Man, let me tell you that took a whole lot of time and effort!

Then I put the creative skills I honed in Mrs. Christianson's class to work later in the course when I chose to do a creative assignment for an Edgar Allan Poe story.  Again, I poured more time and effort into this and stayed up most of a night typing it (yes, typing it on an actual electric typewriter) to get it just how I wanted it.

I worked so hard that I actually pulled an A in that class!

And like so many of my other works from these teachers, I have that Edgar Allan Poe essay in a folder in my desk.

I'm convinced that had either Dr. Drake not humiliated me  or if I had came up with the same lie Greg did, I wouldn't be an English teacher.

This was so vital because it caused me to adopt the growth-mindset.  It hammered home the importance of putting in the time and effort to actually not just do the work but to actually learn something from it.

The next quarter I took Creative Writing from Dr. Drake.  The next year I took English 113 and two sections of British Lit.

I think it was no coincidence that after I finished my AA degree at NCTC and transferred to BSU, I was actually placed in the very same room that Greg had been in.  It seems that he was dropping out of college and I would be taking his spot in the dorm!  I was sure glad that I had learned my lesson the hard way about time and effort.

#5. Dr. Christensen.  It seems only fitting that the two most impactful teachers in my life have the same last name (though spelled differently).

I first met Dr. Mark Christensen my very first quarter (winter quarter 1994/95) at BSU.  I foolishly enrolled in one of his methods classes as one of my very first classes.  It took me about fifteen minutes in his class - and listening to the student discussions (for that was all that his class seemed to be) - to realize that I was way in over my head.  I talked to Dr. Christensen during our first break.  He was kind, warm, and very understanding.  Instantly, I felt at ease.  He agreed that maybe leaping into a methods class right away wasn't the best of moves.  But he encouraged me to be sure to take it later.

In the spring I did sign up for that same methods class.  It was at this moment that I entered the most provocative reading and writing period of my life.  Mark's classroom atmosphere brought something out of me that I didn't know was there.

And though I would only take a couple other classes from him as an undergraduate (a Short Story distance learning class and a Methods of Teaching English class), it felt like I was always in his office.  Of course, that was because after the first methods class, I asked Mark to be my advisor.

Mark had (and still does have) the ability to focus just on you.  When you walk into his office, everything else stops.  He fixes those eyes on you and listens.  Everything else drifts away and he listens intently.  When he speaks, only after you are completing done talking, he offers genuine advice and encouragement.  There is nothing false or insincere about Dr. Christensen.

That is something I try to emulate every time I sit down with a student.  But that's a work in progress.

Mark has done the most to encourage my writing.  He basically did for my writing at the under-graduate level (and then later at the graduate level) what Mrs. Christianson did for my writing at the high school level.  And it totally changed my life.

In the Methods of Teaching English class, I had to read an essay to the class the next week.  My problem? I actually had two essays that I wanted to share.  So I combined them.  It was rudimentary and clumsy, but I made it work.  I shared it and then turned it in.  Mark applauded my creativity and originality.  Most of all, he encouraged my style and voice.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I had written by first braided essay.

I stayed in close contact with Mark throughout my first three years of teaching.  In fact, he worked as a life line for me early on in my first year teaching.  His mantra of "it's only an hour with the students.  Be open to them.  Connect with them.  Offer them the opportunity to learn and grow" helped get me through my last period Comm 10 class which was the worst class I've ever had.

I would even travel to BSU once in awhile to speak to his Methods classes.

After three years at Lincoln, I decided to apply for grad school.  BSU was a logical choice.  I didn't have much contact with Mark at the time, for he was on sabbatical that year, but being able to work with him was one of the deciding factors on me choosing BSU over NDSU.

That summer as I was working for Red Lake County Highway Department, I was standing in a ditch doing survey work when I began to think about what I'd say to Mark's Methods classes now after three years of teaching experience.  It was such a fun mental exercise that before I knew it, our job on that county road was done.

I discovered something that totally put me in my zone.  Talking about teaching to future teachers made time liquefy and just flow by rapidly.  This is something that still happens to me.

In fact, I think about teaching now at all hours of the day: before I fall asleep, when I get up, when I'm running, when I'm on my way to work, when I'm mowing the lawn, when I'm filling up my car with gas . . .

Of course, when I finally set foot on the BSU campus as a grad student, Mark didn't disappoint.  On my first day there, I popped in his office - and though I only had a couple of minutes to spare before I had to go to a meeting with all the other first year graduate assistants - it took Mark a moment to remember me, brighten up and exclaim, "Kurt, I'm so glad that you'll be here this year.  Let's team teach the Methods classes together."

I'll never forget those words as long as I live.  For the first time in a long while, I felt at home.  And I was.  What a glorious year it was!

Not only did Mark continue as my advisor, but we also team-taught Methods of Teaching English and Methods of Teaching Writing.  And just like when I was an undergrad, my reading and writing entered its most productive phase.  I swear that I learned more in those short 9 months than I did in five years of college plus three years of teaching.

In fact, Mark has given me the greatest gift when it comes to my teaching: being a life-long learner on the craft of teaching.  He also has illustrated the importance of one of my greatest attributes: creativity.

When I was finishing my MA in English, Mark encouraged me to do a creative thesis.  I wrestled with this concept for awhile.  Then - quite fittingly, I believe - it dawned on me: I should write about the person who started me on this journal of creativity and teaching and passion: Myrtle Baril.

Building on that very first braided essay I wrote for Mark 8 years before, I began writing a multi-genre creative non-fiction braided memoir on Granny.  And it was the most rewarding writing experience I have very had.

The most rewarding academic moment of my career came when I had to present the work to Mark, Rose Weaver, Susan Hauser, and one other professor (whose name I forget at the moment).  To top it off, Mark and Rose informed me that they were so impressed with my thesis, that they were going to nominate if for Thesis of the Year, which it would eventually win in large part for its originality and creativity.  Granny would be proud!

I think of this achievement often when some of my colleagues note how well they've done in graduate courses with traditional thesis support papers.  And it's true they have.  But I have done just as well in formats that don't sacrifice voice, style, and creativity.

Ultimately, that is the mission of my teaching.

And now - after 17 years - I am seeing it payoff.

I have a student who is a Creative Writing major at Concordia and has just had her first piece published.  She made the switch during one dark night of the soul.  She was struggling as a pre-med major. I was rocking my son to sleep when my Blackberry lit up with a text from her asking if I really thought her writing was any good.

I texted back that it was not just good.  It was excellent.

Then she responded with statement that she was thinking of changing majors.

I immediately thought back to how welcoming and encouraging Mark had been to me when I popped my head into his office on my first day as a graduate assistant.  So I encouraged her and offered to read anything she sent my way.

And now she is published.

I have another student, whose definition essay on her parents' divorce is still one of the most powerful pieces of writing I have ever read, who is about to start her first job in Fargo as a high school English teacher.  In her own blog, which she shared with me last December, she writes about the impact I had on her.

The last two days, as a matter of fact, I've received a Tweet and an Instagram, respectively, reminding me of the impact teachers have.

And that brings me full circle.  I am actually having the same type of impact on students (at least a few students) that Mr. Mueller, Mrs. Christianson, Dr. Drake, and Dr. Christensen have had on me.  It has come full circle.  And that is why I have the greatest job in the world.