{"id":13839,"date":"2020-07-29T00:12:07","date_gmt":"2020-07-29T06:12:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/?p=13839"},"modified":"2020-07-29T00:12:07","modified_gmt":"2020-07-29T06:12:07","slug":"i-want-to-teach","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/2020\/07\/29\/i-want-to-teach\/","title":{"rendered":"I Want To Teach"},"content":{"rendered":"

By JoEllen Collins<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"
JoEllen Collins\u2014a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley\u2014is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as \u201cBibi Jo.\u201d<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

W<\/span>hen my favorite teacher, Mrs. Theodosia Wilkinson, died a few years ago, I wrote a column honoring her. Years after I experienced her brilliant style of teaching, I substituted in my high school and went to the lounge where, to my shock, Ms. W. was smoking! (\u201cShe\u2019s really human,\u201d I thought). She said, \u201cOh, my dear JoEllen, please come and sit by me, and, of course, you may call me Theodosia.\u201d That last request I never could honor.<\/span><\/p>\n

I fell in love with American literature because of her. When this tiny, white-haired lady, dressed in proper navy blue with a lace collar, began to intone Poe\u2019s \u201cThe Bells,\u201d she let her mellifluous voice soar with the rings of different bells. Then she brought to class a scarab found on a trip to Egypt and used it to stimulate interest in one of Poe\u2019s stories. It was the proudest \u201cA\u201d I ever received.<\/span><\/p>\n

My passion for teaching really began with Theodosia, and some of my most prized life memories are of teaching, my students, and the fellow instructors I knew in so many different schools. I still think that, other than with my family and closest friends, I enjoy most being around teachers. I once put a rubber band around my wrist so that I would remember not to gossip at our lunch tables. At Beverly Hills High, the teachers\u2019 cafeteria was filled with round tables so we would talk in ideal groups, and we certainly did. I was hired there to teach ESL to 175 Iranian students following the Ayatollah\u2019s new regime, but also taught debate and honors English and loved the surroundings, salary, and excellence that wealth could buy. Having come from my beloved Santa Monica High, a school composed of all varieties of racial, religious, financial and academic levels, I grew convinced that all schools should have equivalent amenities for teachers and students.<\/span><\/p>\n

In short, I miss teaching. I like kids. I miss the moments when someone unexpected enjoys a book, \u201cgets\u201d a metaphor or image\u2014those times when teacher and students share moments of connection that are unique and why we are in classrooms.<\/span><\/p>\n

All of this came to me when I attended The Community Library\u2019s presentation by renowned local teacher Phil Huss. He shared his just-published book, Hemingway\u2019s Sun Valley. Phil possesses what the best teaches have: intellect, a passion for his subject, energy, and a dedication to encouraging his students to hone their academic skills in tough but exciting studies of literature and language. Phil believes that every school should have equivalent salaries, facilities and teacher and student amenities. I\u2019m sure he also likes kids. I admire and respect him immensely.<\/span><\/p>\n

I could list here the names of dozens of amazing teachers who have taught me and with whom I have worked (three \u201cBobs\u201d pop up). But thank you, my teaching friends, for being in my life, telling me stories I can never forget, and always helping me in my positive and happy time being a teacher. I miss my students and you all.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By JoEllen Collins When my favorite teacher, Mrs. Theodosia Wilkinson, died a few years ago, I wrote a column honoring her. Years after I experienced her brilliant style of teaching, I substituted in my high school and went to the lounge where, to my shock, Ms. W. was smoking! (\u201cShe\u2019s really human,\u201d I thought). She […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7944,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"tdm_status":"","tdm_grid_status":"","_pvb_checkbox_block_on_post":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,22],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-13839","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-commentary","8":"category-on-lifes-terms"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13839","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13839"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13839\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/7944"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13839"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13839"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/woodriverweekly.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13839"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}