Most Memorable Teachers

The teacher I remember most fondly was X.Y., my vector calculus instructor. He was different from most professors I had had before, because he put his heart entirely into the class, and his fun personality came through every lesson. Armed with blue Converse high tops, he always came into the class with cool, clean and efficient lessons. He rarely trailed off topic (except mathematically, once in a blue moon), he delivered the information effectively, and he insisted that everyone call him by his first name. People felt comfortable within the class (with sixty people in the room) to say his name in the middle of lecture and ask a question.

There are three things in particular I remember best. One of these was his odd sense of humour; he came into the classroom one afternoon and said that he had consumed old creamer in his coffee, and that he may need to run out of the classroom at a moment’s notice. At various parts throughout the lecture, he would cling to the table at the front of the room, with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and mumble repeatedly “Mind over matter” while the class looked on in fascination.

The second thing I remember about X.Y. was his homework and grading policy. The standard independent work and academic honesty were expected. However, the final grade was marked on the maximum of one of two schemes:

           

1)      A combination of percentages of grades in the class, at different value for each
midterm, final exam and the quizzes (with the quiz with the lowest grade excluded from the total)

2)      The final exam mark, minus 10%

His homework policy was also interesting, and from a psychological perspective of variable-ratio reward, was brilliant. Every Thursday (homework or quiz day (mathematical “or”)), he would bring in an opaque cup and a handful of beads (black, green, yellow, and red). His collection policy, rigged in our favour, was as follows:

-          If a green bead is pulled from the cup, no homework will be collected and no

quiz will be administered

-          If a yellow bead is pulled from the cup, a quiz will be administered

-          If a red bead is pulled from the cup, homework will be collected

-          If a black bead is pulled from the cup, we must complete both the quiz and submit our homework

The last thing I remember about X.Y. was how comfortable his office hours were; some professors are absolutely intimidating. X.Y., however, was welcoming and answered any question you asked about the course. He was just a very human sort of teacher, and for this, I’m happy I was in his class!

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My other memorable teacher taught calculus at my old high school. Y.Z. did everything right; she used a variety of resources to teach her classes, including Brainpop and careful lectures. She helped us pool information, offered extra hours, and an email address where she could be reached any time. She was well organized and tackled every problem with a profound prowess. However, I didn’t remember her fondly. There was nothing in terms of her teaching style. In fact, I plan to do many things that were the same when it comes to my teaching. Some time before I saw her last, she asked me what I was hoping to study in university. I replied, “I’m interested in medical school, but I don’t know, things could change. I could even pursue a math major, who knows!” I was surprised to hear from her that I “might need to reconsider” because it was possible I “would have a hard time finishing a math degree”. I don’t remember the exact words, but that was the general tone. After changing my mind about medical school part-way through first year, I decided I would have none of her nonsense. I expect to graduate with a BSc in Mathematics in May 2014. While visiting my old high school to pick up some materials two weeks ago from a student I am currently tutoring, one of the other math teachers found out I was working on becoming a math teacher. She said, “Good for you,” and I burst out laughing when she said the next thing: “I should tell Y.Z.! I’m sure she’d want to hear.” With a bit of a giggle, I replied, “Yes, please do, that would be great!”

I discovered that day that there is more to teaching than just the tools and strategies a person uses. I can say without the least bit of hesitation, that I am very stubborn, so I will not take other people seriously when they tell me I can’t do something (outside of situations of authority, I mean). But, what if I had been more unstable in my identity? What if I couldn’t distinguish between a person who, in this case, abused her authority, and a person who was trying to give me a solid piece of advice? Perhaps she didn’t mean it in the way that she said it, and I’m sure she had some reason to say what she did.

Nevertheless, Y.Z. is a good reminder to me of the teacher I do not want to become.