Story 12- flat tire
Unquestionably, I’ve served under some pretty great administrators. Unfortunately, there have been way too many that have left me shaking my head; and one of those being at Alhambra High school. Let’s just call him Mac. I guess he was supposed to be my mentor as he often had me in his office to chat about my days in the classroom. Actually, we grew pretty close, even going fishing together one weekend.
Then came the day I had a second thought about his sanity. It had to be towards the end of the year as the unit were studying was Driver’s Ed, every student needing to pass it if they wished to get their driver’s license. I had them in the palm of my hand.
As I recall, a student came into class late, explaining that his mom had a flat tire on their way to school and they had to wait for Auto Club to change it. Auto Club? Good Grief, I had enough of them I could change them blind. I then asked the class how many had changed a flat tire. Nary had a hand went up.
Well, I couldn’t want for a better teachable moment, so I suddenly changed lesson plans. We’d go down to my car and change a tire. Wow, there were so many things I could teach them that weren’t in the book. I’d show them how to put a block of wood or the like under the jack if they were in soft dirt or sand to deal with a sinking jack. Then came the lug nuts. Often they were way too tight for a number of reasons. That could be overcome with a pipe to extend the leverage. Yep, safety wise, you needed to put the vehicle in park or gear with the emergency brake on, block a wheel to keep the car from rolling as well as a dozen other tricks. With exuberance, it was off to an on-campus field trip to the faculty parking lot.
Lo and Behold, Mac happened to be coming up our way as we headed down the stairs. He held his hand up to stop us and asked where we were going. When I told him about the neat lesson, he hesitated for only a bit and told me to return to the classroom and meet him after school in his office. I was a bit stunned, but went back and reverted to plan A.
After school, I walked into his office and hunkered down into a chair with my arms extended at 45 degrees; hands, palm up in question.
Today, some 55 years later I can still quote him word for word: “When I taught English at Arcadia high school, the other English teacher would take his classes outside on warm days to read in the shade of the oak trees. As my students asked if our classes could go outside too, I had no desire. Then, my students looked upon me as mean; and, that was very unfair.”
I think I sat there for the longest time, wordless; trying to make sense out of was said. We just sat there staring at each other neither of us able to bridge the gap. Believe me, when this incident comes to mind, I remain wordless to this day. Yep, as my dad once said to me after I got my credential: “Those that can, do. Those who can’t, teach!” Maybe so. However, I’ve come to add: and, those who can’t
Now this also brings to mind an elementary teacher in my night lapidary class who was applying for an administrative job because, now get this, because: “I’m a poor teacher; but, would make a great administrator.” What??? Nope, I could never figure out why one would want to be an administrator in the public system where, like the private schools, you aren’t required to teach at least one period a day; experiencing the real joy of education.
On the side I was very taken back when my oldest son was hired to teach at St. Francis. His class wasn’t turned over to him until he had spent several weeks sitting in and observing all other teachers on campus; observing a number of ways of skinning the proverbial cat; that and getting to know his colleagues first hand. I’ve long suggested that all teachers spending at least one conference period a week sitting in observing the techniques of every other teacher on campus, if just for that reason. Yep, as I’ve said, the public system sure could learn a lot from the private….. except, of course, maybe the likes of Mac back at Alhambra.
Wishing you well,
LarryBme2@aol.com