The Piano Teacher

Maywood, Illinois, April 1965. I never enjoyed piano lessons. It's really a pity: if I had focused on the keyboard as much as I did on the knitting needles, I'd be pretty good by now. Although I never took to the instrument, I adored my piano teacher, Mrs. M. I wasn't her favorite student, but she was very kind and patient with me. As a result, I count her among my favorite teachers.

Nunspiration

The "favorite teacher" is a topic that arises occasionally on the blog. The sister pictured here, Sister Patricia, was not one of my teachers. She was a member of the Order of Saint Francis, and she served for a time as the Principal of the grade school I attended.

Sister Patricia was my first "nun crush." She and a colleague once met with our family when the parish encouraged teachers to visit student homes. We hosted them in our living room in the early evening, and my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, served tea. As Sister Patricia sat on our sofa, I rested my head against her starched habit, smelled her Ivory-soap-clean hands, and noticed that she, like I, had a cheek dimple. 

After I met Sister Patricia *and* saw The Sound of Music, I was certain I wanted to become a nun.

Melrose Park, Illinois, June 1964. Sister Patricia attends a graduation ceremony.

The Verona Morning Star

My favorite high-school teacher also taught English. We students thought this teacher was cool because she was only eight years older than we were. She was fresh out of college. She was stylish: her clothes were a bit hippie Bohemian, and she styled her hair in a long shag. The teacher spoke to us as if we were adults, and she often peppered her vocabulary with words we hadn't hear before. She moderated the "Creative Writing Club," which I joined, and she took a group to hear Germaine Greer speak at the local community college. (What I remember most about Greer's lecture was how Greer flirtatiously played with her long, silk scarf throughout the talk).

 

During my sophomore year, the teacher assigned Romeo and Juliet. To test our understanding of the play, she assigned an unusual homework project. We were directed to create a newspaper that knit the themes of the play and showed our grasp of its historical setting.

 

We received the assignment on a Friday, and it was due the following Monday. When I returned home from school, I headed that afternoon to my Best Friend's house. My Best Friend was artistic, and I hoped she'd have some materials with which I could craft the piece. We found some large sheets of newspaper stock in her supplies. My Best Friend and I went out to her backyard, where we burned the edges of the paper to make it appear aged. From there, I spent the weekend writing up stories about Renaissance Verona on my Parents' Royal Typewriter. I drew advertisements, maps, and a comic strip. 

 

The assignment was the most memorable one I completed. What I learned from this teacher—and from my other, favorite teachers—was that good teachers don't teach you material; they teach you to think differently and apply what you've learned critically.

 

 

Suburban Chicago, October 12, 1973. A piece of twine originally held the two pages of my newspaper together.

 

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Page 2 featured a column by Margarita's Mouth, "Verona's Galloping Gossip."

Grading

Kaunas, Lithuania, about 1940. Here's another teacher from my Dad's high school, Aušros Gimnazija.

An Approachable Teacher

Kaunas, Lithuania, about 1940. Here's another photo of one of my Dad's favorite teachers at his high school, Aušros Gimnazija.

It's time to get ready for another semester.

Kaunas, Lithuania, about 1940. Here's another photo of one of my Dad's favorite teachers at his high school, Aušros Gimnazija: composed, stern, and refined.

Study Techniques

Kaunas, Lithuania, about 1940. My Dad cherished and restored photos of his favorite mentors and teachers. Here's a teacher from my Dad's high school, Aušros Gimnazija. I don't know what subject this fellow taught.

Flowers for a Favorite Teacher

Kaunas, Lithuania, Spring 1940. Here's another snapshot of my Dad and his classmates at about the time Dad graduated from his high school, Aušros Gimnazija. Dad is the fellow wearing eye glasses at the left, in the back row.

Memorable Meeting

Schweinfurt, Germany, January 18, 1948. Two leaders among the Displaced-Persons scouts conduct a meeting. My Dad has several photographs from this day, including another snapshot of the mentor pictured here.

Was this a significant gathering, perhaps designed to plan for the Scouting Jamboree that took place later that year in Isarhorn? Or was it a meeting to discuss how to preserve the scouting traditions because so many of the DPs secured permission to leave Germany in 1948?

A Memorable Mentor

My Dad preserved and restored many photographs of his beloved teachers and mentors.

Seligenstadt, Germany, January 18, 1948. This fellow was one of the leaders of the Lithuanian Scout troop to which my Dad belonged. He wears the scouting motto, "Budek," on his pocket. "Budek" means, "Be Prepared."