Wednesday, February 22, 2012

My Second Grade Teacher and Homeschooling

My daughter is very involved with a local community theater. One of the neatest things about community theater is who, from the COMMUNITY, will show up at the performance. 

One evening my second grade teacher, Mrs. Beisiegel, and her husband came to the show. Mrs. B and I talked at each break and for almost half an hour after the performance. One of the things we talked about:  homeschooling. She is a huge supporter of homeschooling and made many comments about how she wishes she had the option available to her when her boys were little.


That made me happy and all warm and fuzzy inside. Mrs. Beisiegel was my favorite teacher for YEARS, I even asked my husband for a necklace just like the one I remember her wearing...back in 1970.  LOL
So having her be a supporter was wonderful.
She commented on the maturity and grace of my daughter several times. It made me feel unabashedly proud!

Well, guess what, speaking of teachers and homeschooling, I ran across an interesting piece on ezinearticles.com on teachers and homeschooling. Check this out:


Not only are the schools having to deal with teaching to the test, losing wonderful teachers in their efforts to please the bureaucracy, and creating antagonistic atmospheres of tension for the teachers, the schools are also creating highly-credible advocates for the homeschool lifestyle.
And I, for one, welcome the teachers with open arms! After all, "they" are some of my favorite people!

Did you have a favorite teacher?  What made him/her the best?
Do you know any teachers who are homeschooling?


3 comments:

  1. The necklace Mrs. Beisiegel wore was a heart-shape surrounded by diamonds.
    I remember sitting at my desk as a seven year old, my upturned eyes below the level of the necklace, that necklace was the only thing between Mrs. B's kind smile and me...

    And, I did get the necklace from my wonderful husband!
    *grin*

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  2. 12th grade English teacher Mrs. Moore. She died of cancer a couple of months before graduation. The church where her funeral was held was slam packed full of students both past and present. She was a gift. You walked into her room and you didn't hate the subject, she didn't want anyone to hate English. Even those who weren't big fans of reading, she got them to love it. She has passion, man did she have passion. It wasn't about getting from a book what the school wanted you to get, no she wanted you to read it and connect with it. How does it reach you personally and what themes can you draw from it there. She would sit in a little stool/chair kind of in front of the class, but in a way that you still felt connected to her. She didn't like having the desk all in rows, instead they were at angles so that way everyone could see and feel like they were apart of the discussions on what we were reading. I don't remember any drible in her class, she was probably a fan of the classical method of education. Only work with a point and purpose made it to her students. And even with the cancer she still showed up, and sat with us, and discussed books. She loved them. And when she was really sick she would quietly excuse herself. She had such grace in the face of everything. She was a graceful and passionate woman. I still have a picture of her. -And I'm going to stop there before I start crying.-

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  3. I don't have just one favorite teacher, but many. School was my haven as a child, and truly, I welcomed it's embrace. Being at home was some bad juju, and being in a place where I could hide among the stacks of books or sit in quiet places to try and suss out the unsussable has never left me. The truth of it though, is those teachers were the ones who were willing to break the rules, the ones who would reach out, who'd give their time. They didn't come every year, and times I'd starve to have someone see *me* through the pencil bubbles.

    So, I guess that's why despite loving school as much as I did, I teach my kiddo at home. Children shouldn't have to starve. Neither at home, nor school.

    z

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