My beloved high school English teacher, Sister Angele, died last week. Some of the reflections at her wake stirred up memories.
Although I don't share Sister Angele's love of travel, touring Greece with her was a great experience. She was a tolerant chaperone who left us on a long leash as we explored Greece and Turkey. We dodged serious trouble a couple of times. Our group also avoided some of our responsibilities. For instance, we all carried assignments overseas because we had homework. I was supposed to read Vanity Fair during that trip expressly for Sister Angele's class. I started reading the book on the plane ride home.
When
we returned to school, Sister Angele pulled me aside into the hallway
outside of her classroom. She warned me not to detail our "escapades" to classmates. Sister Angele's message and tone were
stern, but her head posture and glint conveyed an appreciation of the mischief.
Santorini, Greece, April 1976. Sister Angele is the teacher who required us to memorize and recite the prologue to Canterbury Tales in Middle English. She taught me not to fear public speaking, and she introduced me to the study of the Middle Ages. She thereby started two threads that ran through my life.
1 comment:
She looks like she was a lot of fun and put some zing into learning, which is what a good teacher can do.
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