The other day I received a text message from a high school friend, it read along the lines of, “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news…” and she proceeded to tell me that one of our teachers had passed away that day. He hadn’t gone in that morning for school and one of his teacher friends went to check on him, finding him.
Mr. Bob Smith was in fact one of my favourite teachers in school. He always had a ton of energy and taught history like nobody else – we played Jeopardy one day in class to prepare for an exam and I can still remember sitting there buzzing in with the answer in the form of a question – “Who is Gavrillo Princip?” After the statement read, “This man assassinated Archduke Ferdinand to start World War I.” I then got the bonus statement “He was associated with this radical group…” “What was the Black Hand?”
Learning became fun, and I crushed exams in his class because I’d remember back to these fun reviews we did in class.
Mr. Smith was a huge fan of the Boston Red Sox and every once and awhile on would go “Sweet Caroline,” which we all learned “Bah, Bah, Bahhh” is improvised after Neil Diamond sings out “Sweet Caroline…” then as Diamond sang “Good times never seemed so good,” we – in unison – sing “So good, so good, so good.” We were told the Red Sox always sing it at the end of the 8th inning in Fenway Park. It’s a kind of good luck charm for the Red Sox. Obviously as I write this, I’m listening to “Sweet Caroline” and remembering singing it on occasion at the end of class when Mr. Smith would play the song on his computer.
In grade 12, my French class wanted nothing more than a trip to France. Although our French teacher wasn’t up for that organizational task and said more than five people had to go… we thought to ourselves, who could we convince to take us on a trip to France? It was Mr. Smith. We switched the focus from us going to France to practice our French and said that Europe is about history and that the senior grades would all be interested in seeing that history up close.
Mr. Smith promised to look into it… and he discovered it was the 90th anniversary for Vimy Ridge that spring – he wanted to go… and his classes wanted to go… so, he put it in motion and we toured England and France. Since then he had been taking students on trips over the years to various European countries, China, and more.
When our volleyball team made Provincials for the first time in 20 years, there was only one man that could do us justice in introducing us at a school pep rally. He could have been an announcer for the NHL or something in another life.
He managed to make learning fun and because of him – although I attempted to pursue a math degree in university – I ended up switching to history. I remembered how much I enjoyed learning from him and if I was going to be a teacher, then I wanted to be a teacher like Mr. Smith. I ended up changing my mind on the teaching pursuit in the end as well, but his efforts in the classroom went a long ways in life in general.
Teachers do shape youth and a good teacher will have a lasting impact. An encouragement here, a few kind words there, a high-five after you’ve won a tournament on the weekend there; they are little things, but spread over the time you have them in school, it shapes you.