MY FAVORITE TEACHER
By Rev. Dr. Larry Delano Coleman
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Updated: Monday, October 15, 2012
Her name was Mrs. Bernadine Smith Davis. She was my fourth grade teacher at James Milton Turner Elementary School in Meacham Park, Missouri. Rumor had it that she had been specially brought in to tame our precocious class of “colored” third graders. This rumor has never been substantiated.
One thing that I can personally substantiate, however, is that on the first day of school in the 1960-1961 academic year, in the Kirkwood School District, she called me, by name, to the front of the class and proceeded to whip my ass with a highly burnished mahogany paddle, with suction holes, which she held aloft in her white-gloved right hand like an emblem. Removing her gloves, and putting them in her purse, she proceeded to whip my behind in a sacerdotal offering to the spirit of learning, I now perceive.
As whippings went, at that time, it was fairly standard. I had had enough of them to know, by then, how to assess them. What was not standard, by any means however, was Mrs. Davis. She was quite a “colored” lady! White gloves? Yes, with a little black purse that snapped with a deep, audible clunk when it shut.
The timing of this whipping, its manner of execution, and the selection of its object—me-- were all strategic, it now seems, in retrospect. But, at that time, being only 9, I was decidedly flummoxed by its temporal suddenness, its “unfairness”, so to speak! We really had barely commenced the school day!
Corporal punishment was definitely the rule in those days. “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” ruled the roost in school and very definitely at home. This was well before certain childless psychologists had promulgated “innovative” disciplinary procedures forbidding corporal punishment, and pedagogical techniques imposing restrictions on teachers’ freedoms to instruct. Prayer in school and the “Pledge of Allegiance” also fell as these notions acquired the false aura of “freedom,” and state legislative sanction.
Truth is: I was not a bad child-- mischievous, probing, and inquisitive, yes. Thus, I was a fairly typical boy in that place and time. Indeed, it was, after all, the first day of school! On that day, traditionally, certain indulgences were allowed by our teachers. On that day, one reunited with old friends, caught up on summer gossip, and measured arms in order to secure one’s niche in the classroom pecking order.
I was considered to be “smart.” In fact, I may have been the smartest student—boy or girl—in our class. Now, I may not have been the “brightest”. The difference between smart and bright is quite significant. Not all “smart” people are “bright,” and not all bright people are smart. “Bright” people are like Martha. “Smart” people are like her sister, Mary. Both are sisters of Lazarus in the Bible. (Luke 10:38-42) Bright people follow instructions, obey directions, and do as they are told. Bright people do what is expected of them. Smart people do pretty much what they want, when they want, beholden only to themselves.
While smart people usually technically comply with given instructions, they do so to the minimum extent necessary and without any passion. I was then the epitome of “smart.”
Evidently, Mrs. Davis thought I was being a “smart-aleck,” when I continued talking discreetly, despite her repeated admonitions to the class to be quiet. “Larry,” she said, “Come to the front of the room.” This can’t be good, I thought to myself; she already knows my name. “Ugh oh,” somebody warned anonymously. An expectant hush fell over the class. As I arrived at her desk, she reached into her desk drawer and retrieved the aforementioned paddle, which glistened brilliantly in the morning light.
“Did you not hear me tell the class to be quiet while I was talking?” she asked. I was trapped. If I responded “yes,” then, my discreet talking in class, in spite of her admonition, would constitute insubordination. If I responded “no,” meaning I did not hear her repeated warnings against such conduct, I would be lying, which would be even worse. “Ma’am?” I innocently intoned, weasel-like, stalling for time while tacitly begging for mercy. What she said next concluded the matter.
“Bend over!” The class got the message: “Whack, whack, whack”. And so did I! This lady didn’t play! I remember thinking :“It’s a new day now!” as I returned to my seat, still-smarting in the derriere, and unsuccessfully trying to repress the tears that flowed, more of shame than of pain! After this dramatic introduction, our class abided Mrs. Davis’ every command, without question. In so doing, we all materially benefitted from this great master teacher. Her trusty side-kick was her small, highly burnished mahogany paddle with its suction holes . The mere threat of it induced obedience. Naturally, from such obedience came order, and from order came learning, accelerated learning, and the joy of learning!
One day, we were learning about Japan. None of us seemed to know much about it. So, Mrs. Davis sent me to the encyclopedia to learn something about it, and to report to the class. Now, I knew our set of encyclopedia was on a bookcase in back of the classroom. I knew what and where they were. But, I did not know exactly how to use them, never having used them before. I didn’t tell Mrs. Davis about my ignorance out of my sense of shame, pride in my “smartness,” and fear of the consequences of refusal.
So, dutifully, I went to the set of encyclopedia and pulled down the first book of the set, which, of course, began with “A”. I then turned the first page, the second, third, etc. But, still no “Japan.” I was back there so long without reporting on Japan, Mrs. Davis, inquired as to my progress, several times.
Each time, I responded hopefully and optimistically about my progress.
Finally, she came back to me and the encyclopedia set to see what was going on. Quickly assessing the situation, she looked into my frightened, pleading eyes, and said: “You poor baby. You don’t know how to use the encyclopedia! Do you?” Love and compassion mingled with pity flashed in her eyes. And, just as quickly, it passed being replaced by steely resolve. “Stand up, son,” she said softly. I quickly complied.
To my surprise and relief, she gave me a sweetly-perfumed hug! Instead of a brutal tongue-lashing, or another paddling in front of the class, she comforted me instead! She then stated aloud for all the class to hear, “Thank you, Larry, for doing your best to find Japan in the encyclopedia.” Thereafter, she called
the whole class around us and proceeded to teach all of us how to use the encyclopedia, alphabetically. In so doing, we all found “Japan” and learned that it was an island nation near China, against whom we had recently fought World War II. Many of our fathers had fought in that war, mine included. That day we also learned about the value of “doing our best” and not to be fearful of failure!
I had also learned that compassion and discipline are complements in teaching and in learning. The whipping that I had feared from my failure to find Japan was just a delusion, as were my shame and my pride. All of these concerns had been banished by our dedicated teacher’s love for us and her love for her profession’s responsibility to us, her students.
Mrs. Bernadine Smith Davis deeply loved us! We sensed her love, and returned it in kind through work.
Mrs. Davis’ greatest pedagogical triumph, however, was one that she would never see nor measure.
As the 1960-1961academic-year drew to a close, she told us that it would be important for us to continue learning over that summer. But, that she could not teach us, being prohibited by law from doing so. She would, instead, draw up lesson plans from such core subjects as mathematics, science, reading, etc. which we could carry out over the summer, peer-to-peer, going from house-to-house, on a volunteer basis. Then, when the new school year opened, we would be ready to resume work, without having regressed. I signed up, as did others. So disciplined and acclimated were we by then,that Mrs. Davis’ influence served as a guiding spirit for us over the summer! We carried out her summer program’s curriculum in her absence. Adhering to her schedule, we matriculated from house-to-house: teaching each other, learning from each other, inspiring each other, challenging each other all summer!
Learning for us was as much fun as “kick ball.” All participants benefitted greatly, from Mrs. Davis’ love and dedication to excellence. We yet do so in our daily lives.
This story is a paean to her and to all teachers like her! Mrs. Bernadine Smith Davis was definitely my favorite teacher! The lessons learned and the values acquired there in 4th grade at James Milton Turner Elementary School in Meacham Park, Missouri, in 1960-1961,have endured for a lifetime.
#30
Sunday, June 3, 2018
MY FAVORITE TEACHER
MY FAVORITE TEACHER
By Rev. Dr. Larry Delano Coleman
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Updated: Monday, October 15, 2012
Her name was Mrs. Bernadine Smith Davis. She was my fourth grade teacher at James Milton Turner Elementary School in Meacham Park, Missouri. Rumor had it that she had been specially brought in to tame our precocious class of “colored” third graders. This rumor has never been substantiated.
One thing that I can personally substantiate, however, is that on the first day of school in the 1960-1961 academic year, in the Kirkwood School District, she called me, by name, to the front of the class and proceeded to whip my ass with a highly burnished mahogany paddle, with suction holes, which she held aloft in her white-gloved right hand like an emblem. Removing her gloves, and putting them in her purse, she proceeded to whip my behind in a sacerdotal offering to the spirit of learning, I now perceive.
As whippings went, at that time, it was fairly standard. I had had enough of them to know, by then, how to assess them. What was not standard, by any means however, was Mrs. Davis. She was quite a “colored” lady! White gloves? Yes, with a little black purse that snapped with a deep, audible clunk when it shut.
The timing of this whipping, its manner of execution, and the selection of its object—me-- were all strategic, it now seems, in retrospect. But, at that time, being only 9, I was decidedly flummoxed by its temporal suddenness, its “unfairness”, so to speak! We really had barely commenced the school day!
Corporal punishment was definitely the rule in those days. “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” ruled the roost in school and very definitely at home. This was well before certain childless psychologists had promulgated “innovative” disciplinary procedures forbidding corporal punishment, and pedagogical techniques imposing restrictions on teachers’ freedoms to instruct. Prayer in school and the “Pledge of Allegiance” also fell as these notions acquired the false aura of “freedom,” and state legislative sanction.
Truth is: I was not a bad child-- mischievous, probing, and inquisitive, yes. Thus, I was a fairly typical boy in that place and time. Indeed, it was, after all, the first day of school! On that day, traditionally, certain indulgences were allowed by our teachers. On that day, one reunited with old friends, caught up on summer gossip, and measured arms in order to secure one’s niche in the classroom pecking order.
I was considered to be “smart.” In fact, I may have been the smartest student—boy or girl—in our class. Now, I may not have been the “brightest”. The difference between smart and bright is quite significant. Not all “smart” people are “bright,” and not all bright people are smart. “Bright” people are like Martha. “Smart” people are like her sister, Mary. Both are sisters of Lazarus in the Bible. (Luke 10:38-42) Bright people follow instructions, obey directions, and do as they are told. Bright people do what is expected of them. Smart people do pretty much what they want, when they want, beholden only to themselves.
While smart people usually technically comply with given instructions, they do so to the minimum extent necessary and without any passion. I was then the epitome of “smart.”
Evidently, Mrs. Davis thought I was being a “smart-aleck,” when I continued talking discreetly, despite her repeated admonitions to the class to be quiet. “Larry,” she said, “Come to the front of the room.” This can’t be good, I thought to myself; she already knows my name. “Ugh oh,” somebody warned anonymously. An expectant hush fell over the class. As I arrived at her desk, she reached into her desk drawer and retrieved the aforementioned paddle, which glistened brilliantly in the morning light.
“Did you not hear me tell the class to be quiet while I was talking?” she asked. I was trapped. If I responded “yes,” then, my discreet talking in class, in spite of her admonition, would constitute insubordination. If I responded “no,” meaning I did not hear her repeated warnings against such conduct, I would be lying, which would be even worse. “Ma’am?” I innocently intoned, weasel-like, stalling for time while tacitly begging for mercy. What she said next concluded the matter.
“Bend over!” The class got the message: “Whack, whack, whack”. And so did I! This lady didn’t play! I remember thinking :“It’s a new day now!” as I returned to my seat, still-smarting in the derriere, and unsuccessfully trying to repress the tears that flowed, more of shame than of pain! After this dramatic introduction, our class abided Mrs. Davis’ every command, without question. In so doing, we all materially benefitted from this great master teacher. Her trusty side-kick was her small, highly burnished mahogany paddle with its suction holes . The mere threat of it induced obedience. Naturally, from such obedience came order, and from order came learning, accelerated learning, and the joy of learning!
One day, we were learning about Japan. None of us seemed to know much about it. So, Mrs. Davis sent me to the encyclopedia to learn something about it, and to report to the class. Now, I knew our set of encyclopedia was on a bookcase in back of the classroom. I knew what and where they were. But, I did not know exactly how to use them, never having used them before. I didn’t tell Mrs. Davis about my ignorance out of my sense of shame, pride in my “smartness,” and fear of the consequences of refusal.
So, dutifully, I went to the set of encyclopedia and pulled down the first book of the set, which, of course, began with “A”. I then turned the first page, the second, third, etc. But, still no “Japan.” I was back there so long without reporting on Japan, Mrs. Davis, inquired as to my progress, several times.
Each time, I responded hopefully and optimistically about my progress.
Finally, she came back to me and the encyclopedia set to see what was going on. Quickly assessing the situation, she looked into my frightened, pleading eyes, and said: “You poor baby. You don’t know how to use the encyclopedia! Do you?” Love and compassion mingled with pity flashed in her eyes. And, just as quickly, it passed being replaced by steely resolve. “Stand up, son,” she said softly. I quickly complied.
To my surprise and relief, she gave me a sweetly-perfumed hug! Instead of a brutal tongue-lashing, or another paddling in front of the class, she comforted me instead! She then stated aloud for all the class to hear, “Thank you, Larry, for doing your best to find Japan in the encyclopedia.” Thereafter, she called
the whole class around us and proceeded to teach all of us how to use the encyclopedia, alphabetically. In so doing, we all found “Japan” and learned that it was an island nation near China, against whom we had recently fought World War II. Many of our fathers had fought in that war, mine included. That day we also learned about the value of “doing our best” and not to be fearful of failure!
I had also learned that compassion and discipline are complements in teaching and in learning. The whipping that I had feared from my failure to find Japan was just a delusion, as were my shame and my pride. All of these concerns had been banished by our dedicated teacher’s love for us and her love for her profession’s responsibility to us, her students.
Mrs. Bernadine Smith Davis deeply loved us! We sensed her love, and returned it in kind through work.
Mrs. Davis’ greatest pedagogical triumph, however, was one that she would never see nor measure.
As the 1960-1961academic-year drew to a close, she told us that it would be important for us to continue learning over that summer. But, that she could not teach us, being prohibited by law from doing so. She would, instead, draw up lesson plans from such core subjects as mathematics, science, reading, etc. which we could carry out over the summer, peer-to-peer, going from house-to-house, on a volunteer basis. Then, when the new school year opened, we would be ready to resume work, without having regressed. I signed up, as did others. So disciplined and acclimated were we by then,that Mrs. Davis’ influence served as a guiding spirit for us over the summer! We carried out her summer program’s curriculum in her absence. Adhering to her schedule, we matriculated from house-to-house: teaching each other, learning from each other, inspiring each other, challenging each other all summer!
Learning for us was as much fun as “kick ball.” All participants benefitted greatly, from Mrs. Davis’ love and dedication to excellence. We yet do so in our daily lives.
This story is a paean to her and to all teachers like her! Mrs. Bernadine Smith Davis was definitely my favorite teacher! The lessons learned and the values acquired there in 4th grade at James Milton Turner Elementary School in Meacham Park, Missouri, in 1960-1961,have endured for a lifetime.
#30
