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Requiem for an Educator
Requiem for an Educator
Requiem for an Educator
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Requiem for an Educator

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Hundreds of thousands of teachers around the world get up every morning with the resolve to reach Johnny, Sue, Mary, LaShaundra, Kim, or Boo today. Hundreds of thousands of teachers who use their own limited resources to make their presentations inspirational as well as informative. Hundreds of thousands of teachers who are disparaged, belittled, ridiculed, mocked, criticized, denigrated by their peers and oftentimes by the persons of authority, who represent the school system, for going beyond the call of duty to reach those with whom they have been charged for the betterment of society. Hundreds of thousands of teachers who are led by an inner power to do good and what is right in this day. I met you! I worked with you! I salute you! I am one of you!
LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 18, 2014
ISBN9781466993525
Requiem for an Educator
Author

BROTHER WILES

I am a native of Chicago, Illinois, the third son of a Baptist preacher and pastor, and is presently a retired educator after thirty-seven years of service. My father taught us how to read from the Holy Bible as far back as I can remember. Therefore I was reading before attending school. Fascinated by stories in the Old Testament, I developed a thirst for history. Biblical history and secular history has become a favorite pastime. Hoodwinked is a compilation of some of the readings, experiences, and observations I have witnessed over.

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    Requiem for an Educator - BROTHER WILES

    © Copyright 2014 Brother Wiles.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

    ISBN: 978-1-4669-9353-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4669-9352-5 (e)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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    Table of Contents

    Chapter 1 The Early Years

    Chapter 2 High School

    Chapter 3 College Years

    Chapter 4 Beginning to Teach, Professionally

    Chapter 5 My First Full Year of Teaching

    Chapter 6 Why Johnny Can’t Read, Some Thoughts

    Chapter 7 The Influence of Extra Curricular Experiences

    Chapter 8 Fully In The Water

    Chapter 9 Politics In Education

    Chapter 10 A Love Affair… Almost

    Chapter 11 Chinks In The Armor

    Chapter 12 The Beginning of the End

    Epilogue

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to the hundreds of thousands of teachers around the world who get up every morning with the resolve to reach Johnny, Sue, Mary, LaShaundra, Kim, or Boo today. To the hundreds of thousands of teachers who use their own limited resources to make their presentations inspirational as well as informative. To the hundreds of thousands of teachers who are disparaged, belittled, ridiculed, mocked, criticized, denigrated by their peers and often times by the persons of authority, who represent the school systems, for going beyond The call of duty to reach those with whom you have been charged for the betterment of society. To the hundreds of thousands of teachers who are led by an inner power to do good and what is right in this day. I met you! I worked with you! I salute you! I am one of you!

    Also, please note that when and if names are mentioned, they have been changed to protect the innocent.

    Born To Teach

    I was born the middle child of five sons. My teaching career began by helping my younger brothers to read, write, and count. One of Webster’s definitions of the word teach is to show and it seems like I was always showing someone how to do something. Whatever I knew I gladly shared and was happy when that person learned how to do it well. Other people shared their skills with me therefore I thought I was bound to share my knowledge with others.

    I showed others how to make scooters and cars using 2 X 4 boards, wooden crates and old roller skates, bicycle or baby buggy wheels. There! I guess I’ve dated myself. I also taught others how to make bow and arrows with tree branches, string, and reeds. What I liked most was sports. My father had seven brothers and the eight of them taught me how to shoot marbles, hold a bat correctly along with the other skills of baseball including how to get the jump on the ball when your were in the field and the opponent hit the ball. Football, volleyball, how to go longer distances when flopping on the sled or sliding the base of the high slide in the winter after it had been watered down just after freezing were other activities I learned and shared. I loved to wrestle because I loved beating older and stronger boys by outthinking them and using their strength to defeat them.

    Allow me to interject an occasion. One summer, my oldest brother and I decided to see who could drag, wrestle or toss the other into a mud puddle. Being older and stronger he got a good grip on me, shoved me down, got hold of both my feet and began to drag me towards the mud hole. As I struggled to break free or grab something in vain, because there was nothing around but grass, to stop the progression towards the mud hole, I developed a plan. The mud hole was narrow and more than likely my brother would spread his legs to reach the sides of the mud hole and drag me right into the center. Once we got to that position, my brother spread his legs to reach the sides of the mud hole and began dragging me towards the middle. I grabbed both his legs and pushed with both my feet in the direction he was dragging me and he fell backwards into the mud hole.

    These principles I applied to my favorite sport football. I was allowed to play sandlot football with the older guys because I had heart. What the older boys taught me, I taught to the younger fellows.

    One truth I learned was, everything you do requires thought and when you are competing you have to out think your opponent if you wanted to win. Hence, my philosophy for formal education. Education is the process by which we develop our power to think. Life is a series of solving problems or situations. He/she who thinks best will succeed the most.

    Years later, after I had been in education for about seven or eight years, I reflected on my youth and determined that it took my entire community to nurture me into who I had become. Therefore, I developed a second opinion about educating children that is, All Children DO Learn, we adults Influence what they learn. Also, I must admit that I had in my life, what many of today’s young men don’t have, a substantial positive male influence! This influence spanned from the younger guys who eagerly learned from me, the fellows my age I hung out with, the older boys who taught me what they knew in sports, the adult men who directed me along the correct paths in life, to the senior citizens, from whom I gained a wealth of wisdom to apply to the knowledge I was obtaining.

    Chapter 1

    The Early Years

    I have fond memories of the public elementary school I attended for several reasons. Some were: great sports teams, which included track & field, volleyball, ice skating, wrestling, softball, and football. Also we had a safety patrol that was sponsored by a real live army drill sergeant who ran the patrol like an Army platoon. We couldn’t wait to reach sixth grade so we could apply. I moved quickly up the ranks and by the time I graduated, I was captain. At patrol gym we would practice all types of drill formations, which led us to become part of the color guard that presented at all assemblies. Also the entire patrol, led by the drum and bugle corps, would march through the halls every Monday morning to begin the week. The entire student body lined the halls outside their rooms as we marched by. We really felt important. At the end of the week, before the patrol left to go on duty, all classroom doors were opened to hear taps played by two buglers. One was stationed on the first floor in the west wing and the other was stationed on the second floor in the east wing. The entire school was silent as one led and the other echoed taps.

    Our elementary school was also noted for its choir. The director, who was a great singer in her own right, taught English and music to the upper grades. You were allowed to try out for the choir in the sixth grade and if you were good enough you were in it for three years. This elementary school choir sang songs such as Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus, in four-part harmony, in Cappella and could hold its own against any high school A Cappella chorus.

    The sports I mentioned earlier were actually run by the park district out of a field house located on the school’s playground. The community seemed to turn out for the softball, volleyball games, and the track and field events. Guess what sports I pursued. However I did play sandlot football because that was considered a man’s game and although I was usually the smallest person on the field, I had heart and some skills.

    What about formal education? This is a public elementary school I’m talking about isn’t it? Oh yes, that! Believe it or not, formal education did take place despite all these wonderful extra curricular things that were going on. Some of our teachers even lived in the neighborhood and we would see them at the stores or in church. They seemed to take pride in our accomplishments and were determined that we were going to learn, sometimes in spite of ourselves. I liked math because it seemed like playing with puzzles and one had to figure it out. Spelling was no problem for me. I had a good memory. Social studies and science were boring to me although I received good grades. But that was because I had a good memory and passed the tests. In fact, I did a lot of that back then. Memorize the material for the test; after the test clear my memory banks and get ready for the next test. It even worked for S.A. Tests! Remember what was said, regurgitate it on test day and move on.

    Science was boring because we read the same books my aunt used, at least 13 years earlier, and answered the questions at the end of the lesson or chapter. Absolutely no experiments or other type of hands-on involvement was given. Social Studies was a little different. I loved to read about earlier times and other places (in story form). By fifth grade I was reading Greek Mythology from books checked out from the library as well as stories about the wild west and how it was won, or lost, depending on your perspective. However, when history was put in a scholarly format with documented dates, places, and times, who cared? A side note! Now I wish I had cared because I now find it fascinating. Also, I have a different outlook on history, which is, we study our past to understand our present and make better plans or predictions about our future. Back then it was the memorization of facts! On Tuesday afternoon, the 12th of September, in the year of our Lord 1718, when he was only 13 years old, George Washington made the statement, I cannot tell a lie, I did cut down the cherry tree. Hooray! Yippee! And??? What meaning did that fact have for my past, my present, or my future?

    Mathematics was different. Earlier I stated that math was like doing a puzzle. Learning the relationships, patterns, and formulas connected with numerals was intriguing and… the facts remained constant. Therefore, once you unlocked the understanding of some mathematical mystery, it never changed! Math is much like music. Math has 10 numerals that repeat, music seven notes that repeat. Once you understand the relationships, the connectiveness, the repetition, and the value of those symbols you are well on your way to mastery of those subjects. There is one thing to remember however, that is, math is more restrictive, more confining, and more exact, than music thereby making it the easier of the two subjects to master. While they both lend themselves to seemingly limitless creativity, math has laws… music has… passion.

    I was not the perfect student. One, who always did his work, received good grades and never got into trouble. For example, I was suspended in 1st grade for punching a girl in the jaw. I thought she deserved it (she used the B word when referring to my mother). However, by the time my mother and father finished with me I understood that I was not suppose to hit a girl under any circumstance. In fact they told my grandparents and aunts and uncles of my heinous crime. They all sang the same song to me. Man’s lot in life is to respect and protect his women. If we as males do not do this, no one else will. This was the first of many life lessons I learned. Needless to say I have yet to raise my hand to another woman. A second note worthy life lesson came when I was in 3rd grade. I had been absent due to an illness for about a week and upon my return I walked into an exam on telling time. I didn’t trust myself so without hesitation I cheated. I looked on the paper of another student and copied his answers. We both failed! Upon reviewing the test I realized that I knew most of the answers and would have passed if I had only did my best. From then on, I decided to trust myself and make my own mistakes. At least I could learn from them.

    Even though I liked math, everything I did concerning academics was perfunctory. I did what I did to past tests and prepare for the next set, until 6th grade. Here I was introduced to home mechanics. What we learned there was applied science. Learning measurement, for example now made sense. If you couldn’t convert from feet to inches, tablespoons to teaspoons, to scale your project up or down, whether it was cooking, sewing, or building something, it usually did not turn out right. As I reflect on those experiences I wonder why did they take home mechanics out of elementary schools? It gave a reason for learning academics.

    The remainder of my early years was filled with

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