Teacher’s Instructions For Life

Won Over By Reality

by Tim Bayer

WEBSTER, NY—(Weekly Hubris)—4/12/10—“Oh, Tim! You can do better than that!”

The teacher’s dressing-down rang true and, at the same time, provided motivation. Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded like harsh criticism. But, as the words came from this woman, I correctly interpreted them as encouragement from my biggest fan, my staunchest supporter. She cared. She was right. The work wasn’t my best. I could do better, and I would. Her subtle life lesson was that one would only succeed when one put forth one’s best effort.

Through the years, many students received the same encouragement and prospered under her guidance. Either through the spoken word or by quietly leading by example, this teacher was constantly providing illumination. She taught what was on the school syllabus, but her instruction reached well beyond the schoolroom walls. Most of all, she was a teacher of life; a provider of tools.

She was, as well, always a proud, fiercely independent woman who would not permit any adverse turn of fate to dampen her determination nor her drive to succeed in caring fully for those under her watchful eye. Her view encompassed a changing landscape populated by every child or young person who came within her realm of influence. She created a metamorphosing extended family and served as an unofficial surrogate parent to uncounted numbers of multiple generations.

She would spend hours on lesson plans, bulletin boards, and preparation. She found unique, creative ways to get her points across, though her overall lesson was very simple: preparation, hard work, and persistence were the only keys to success in any endeavor.

Failing to deliver your best was admonished. But, more important, the final evaluation of success or failure was based on the effort expended and the lessons learned. This woman taught that the insight gained from a failed attempt might become the solid foundation for building future successes.

She challenged everyone to aspire to great deeds. No one was permitted to underachieve on her watch. She was quick to acknowledge and celebrate the breaking of barriers that challenged individuals previously viewed as insurmountable. She demanded the best from herself and she inspired her students to achieve their best.

She was also a compassionate teacher. A missed assignment or overlooked task was duly noted. However, a gate was always left ajar, providing an opportunity to correct the misdeed and rejoin the fold. No soul would be left behind.

Not for her, the stereotype of the teacher standing autocratically before a group of students. In her view, what she was about was not, properly, “school.” A class comprised a collection of individuals in which there was no anonymity. When she taught, each student knew the teacher had a personal investment in her or his success. In this way, she had the magical ability to teach a group of children one child at a time.

She administered strict but fair discipline. She demanded respect for the feelings and needs of others, or else you would be pulled aside and the error of your ways succinctly explained. The lesson and discussion that followed usually started with a direct question: “How would you feel if someone did that to you?”

She had another simple, plainly worded edict: “You must pick up after yourself so that it is nice for the next person.” The wisdom of what would seem a basic teaching leads out to a much broader horizon. The maxim encourages a habit; the habit becomes a lifestyle; the individual lifestyle makes the community a better place.

We all learned from the example she set. For all those who came through her door, her influence is indisputable; this world is a better place for Bernice’s having taught here.

The wealth of my own good fortune is incalculable.

She was my mother, Bernice Bayer, the teacher.