tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38913891.post1959207900661658155..comments2023-04-11T03:26:34.133-07:00Comments on Northwest Passages: Teachers Who InspireBarbara Rodenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00168372504068864948noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38913891.post-11877707744805005432015-09-25T00:13:55.779-07:002015-09-25T00:13:55.779-07:00I also had Mrs Martin and I will always cherish th...I also had Mrs Martin and I will always cherish those memories : )Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38913891.post-38265496557097120702011-02-28T13:05:42.021-08:002011-02-28T13:05:42.021-08:00I was doing a little googling and came across you ...I was doing a little googling and came across you blog. I just wanted to say thank you so much for the kind words about my dad, Norm Claridge. It was really nice to read about your experience in his hugh boyd science class. Thanks again!<br />Stephanie ClaridgeUnknownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02039390040073990412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38913891.post-9474666478561516292009-03-26T20:19:00.000-07:002009-03-26T20:19:00.000-07:00Mr. McCluskey, my grade 11 English teacher, apprec...Mr. McCluskey, my grade 11 English teacher, appreciated the fact that I obviously enjoyed the reading we had to do; sometimes it seemed like he was teaching directly to me. He it was who first made me realise that sometimes the most seemingly innocuous observations or comments in a story can have a wealth of meaning under the surface: we were reading Richard Connell's 'The Most Dangerous Game', and Mr. McCluskey pointed out that in the text, when Zaroff thinks he's despatched Rainsford, he hums an aria from MADAMA BUTTERFLY. All very well; but Mr. McCluskey elaborated, saying that the most famous aria from MADAMA BUTTERFLY is 'Un bel di', in which Butterfly sings of the man who will one day come back . . . and chunk, a little bit of subtext was illuminated.<BR/><BR/>And there was Mr. Beardsley, my grade 11 math teacher. Like you, Karen, I was never a great lover of math; I preferred English, where the answer could be anything (within reason) to math, where the answer had to be x or nothing. At the time I was in high school math was mandatory through grade 11; after that it was optional (unless you needed it for what you were taking in post-secondary). I determined I'd take math through grade 11, and then no more; so it was a shock when, halfway through the semester, Mr. Beardsley (who knew I didn't like the subject) took me aside and said, kindly but firmly, that I was currently failing the course, and had two options: pull myself together and my grades up and have half a semester of dull, boring math, or continue on as I was and have another full semester of it next year. I pulled myself together, scraped a B, and never looked back.Barbara Rodenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00168372504068864948noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38913891.post-18458468253182804742009-03-26T15:09:00.000-07:002009-03-26T15:09:00.000-07:00Unfortunately, I am so terrible with names, but th...Unfortunately, I am so terrible with names, but there are a few teachers who stand out quite clearly even in MY terrible memory.<BR/><BR/>I was not a lover of math. I never had any great aptitude for it, though I did not fear it. But I remember the instructor who introduced me to algebra & word problems, & the rather grim amusement she felt as I got it all & soared. Except for T/R/D problems, which I NEVER got & which frustrated her to no end.<BR/><BR/>There was the English teacher who, in a big city public school was SO thrilled to discover she had a student who loved to read, who would read almost anything & NOT just for asignments, then come in & argue about them (she loved Faulkner & the more depressing Steinbeck. I was strictly a _Sweet Thursday_ & _Travels w/ Charlie_ kinda girl). Ms. Barr comes to mind, but I might be wrong.<BR/><BR/>& then there was Donal Leace, my theatre history instructor. The first teacher ever to call me by my last name w/ a "Miss" preceding it; to have expectations of me that even I was not sure I could meet, but was inspired to try. The first, in essence, not to treat me like a child. We joked about him A LOT, but I honestly wish I could go back, apologise, & learn from him all over again.TheMadBlondehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12719468015277769337noreply@blogger.com