1st Grade: Bonnie Fish (now Bonnie Ross). Convinced my parents that no, I was not just a rambunctious child and they got me tested for ADD... and on Ritalin. Went from uncontrollable to one of the best students in a heartbeat. And 34 years later she chased me down online, having remembered me that long.

3rd Grade: Ms. Cutlip. I went from having an absolute monster of a 3rd grade teacher, to the point my parents transferred me to another school district, to this saint. She got me interested in reading... lots and lots of reading. My home library size reflects her influence.

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Ooooh! Shiny!

Miss Coppersmith was my third grade teacher in the late '70s in Pine Island, MN. There are so many things I remember about her, but probably the best thing she did was Friday hugs. No kid could leave the classroom on Friday afternoon without getting a hug from her on their way out the door. She loved us and we loved her.

Too bad things like that aren't allowed today. For some kids, that was probably the only hug they got all week.

Unfailingly kind to me at a time when my home life was a mess and I needed some guidance and structure. He was my fifth-grade teacher at Prairie View Elementary in Eden Prairie in 1980. He was kind of a groovy hippie type. I'll never forget how he let me stay after school and hang out with him while he did his work.

The elementary school I went to had the teachers teaching several grades simultaneously. Kindergarten and first grade were just 1 grade per teacher, but then they would mix it up after that. I had the same teacher from 2nd through 4th grade, but she switched to just 3rd and 4th grade after the first year (perhaps 2nd-4th was too much of a difference). Students had the option of switching to a different teacher if they didn't like the one they had. I liked my teacher, so I stuck it out with her for all 3 years. It was nice, because she was able to understand my specific learning needs, and as such, I excelled far beyond the standard curriculum. The class was divided into different skill levels, and my best friend and I had exceeded the highest reading and math levels, so she created a separate level just for us.

After that, I went to a class that had 4th through 6th grade, and I stayed there for 5th and 6th grade. He was probably the most influential teacher of my life, and started me on the path toward becoming a musician. (He was a bit of an ex-hippie, and we would sing old hippie-protest songs in class -- Bob Dylan, Lennon & McCartney, Tom Paxton, etc...) The school had been K-6 all my life, but then right when I got to 7th grade, they started expanding to K-8. I had a different teacher for 7th grade, but didn't like that teacher much, so for 8th grade I switched back to my previous teacher (who had changed to teaching 7th and 8th graders).

The only problem that I had with having multiple different grades in a single class was that I thought it was normal. I also thought it was normal to call teachers by their first name. It seemed so strange to me that other schools had only 1 grade in each class, and that they had to call their teachers "Mr." and "Mrs."

As for having the same teacher for multiple years in a row, I think that's a very good idea. Teachers can be very influential on kids, and they should be able to stick with the same teacher for several years in order to let that influence fully set in. However, the students also need the ability to request a change to a different teacher, either because they don't like their current teacher, or because they really want to be in the class of a teacher that they've heard good things about. (I specifically requested to get into the class of the ex-hippie because my brother was in his class and he seemed pretty awesome.) Unfortunately, there's higher demand to be in the good classes, so it can get competitive to get the good teachers, and not every student will get their wish. (My best friend didn't make it into the 5th/6th grade class that I did, and that was kind of unfortunate.)

I don't remember the teacher's name or the grade. Wish I did. It was in Kenyon, Minnesota in the mid-'50s. She assigned us to write a poem about Halloween. I wrote one and turned it in, and thought no more about it.

But the next day she had me read it out loud for class, and said it was very good. Then she asked the class if they'd like her to mimeograph it for all of them, so they could read it for another class.

I was completely at a loss as to what the big deal was.
I didn't know then, and don't know now, whether the poem was all that good or not.

But I suspect the teacher had sensed that I desperately needed some affirmation at that time in my life. She picked out one area where I did well, and gave me a reason to feel a little good about myself.

I suppose that's why I'm a writer today.

I had a similar experience to LarsWalker, in the 7th grade. Mrs. Brolsma, who taught Social Studies and English, had me read aloud one of my stories, and just heaped all sorts of praise on me. At the time, "The Waltons" was on TV (tells you how old I am!), and the other kids started calling me "John-Boy." But I didn't mind--for the first time in my life, an adult was really taking an interest in me. She changed my life.

The other great teacher I had was a guy named Ernie Fisher. He taught high-school history, along with an honors class called "Political Thought." We spent a year studying Plato's Republic. I'll never forget the final exam: Mr. Fisher passed out the blue books, went up to the board, and wrote "Explicate the first three words of Plato's Republic"* and left the room. That was the whole test. We all wrote like maniacs for an hour. I got a "C" on the test (one of the few I ever got--he was a tough teacher!). Mr. Fisher went on to be the Vice Principal, then the Principal, and finally retired as Superintendent of Schools a few years back. He was tough as nails, and enforced order and discipline in his school. I'll never forget him. A brilliant, inspired, and fundamentally decent man.

So many great teachers. And now I can watch as my two sons (5th grade and 8th grade) experience some equally-gifted individuals who give so much of themselves and care so deeply about the children in their classrooms.

And then there are the lousy teachers. But thank goodness that, at least where I live, they seem to be in the minority.

*The first three words of Plato's Republic are "I went down."

My favorite teacher of all was in jr. high. I could have had her as a teacher for all 12 years. I don't particularly remember a liked teacher in elementary. Not that they had it in for me, but I only remember 2 and they were so-so. But, my kindergarten teacher, for some reason I remember like yesterday. The coolest thing about her was that she let us sign her cast when she broke her leg. Only us. We were the privileged. But, remember, we were in kindergarten. You can imagine what our "signatures" looked like.

But, to a 5-6 year old, it was the best, not to mention, obviously memorable.

My fifth-grade teacher, Miss McClure, went out of her way to help me out both academically and socially -- and I was a sullen and unpopular child, and I'm sure most unrewarding to spend extra time with!

Adults' philosophy concerning kids' harassing and bullying each other was very laissez-faire back then (The "Throw 'em to the wolves" approach, basically), and Miss McClure was one of the few adults who genuinely tried to help me get along better with other kids. And she NEVER said "Just ignore them, and they'll stop bothering you," which is one of the biggest lies well-meaning adults routinely told kids in those days (and possibly still do).

I still have a book of Irish lore and recipes Miss McClure gave me (she liked my very Irish name).

As far as sticking with one teacher, well, I'd have loved to have stayed in Miss McClure's class another year. But I had another grade school teacher who was, I swear, certifiably insane -- and one year of that was plenty.

My sixth grade teacher and by far, the best from elementary school days. She genuinely loved her students and expected us to perform at well above the sixth grade level, and she rewarded us for it. I still see her from time to time (she's a caterer now) and it's neat to have an adult relationship with her many years later.

Our middle school here (6-8) did a varient on the same teacher/multiple years concept. Each grade is taught by three or four teams of teachers and at the end of the year, the kids get to choose if they want to stay on the same team or move to another team for the following year. They are amazingly good at balancing out the distribution across the teams, just amongst themselves, with little or no interference from us adults.

I had a 2nd grade teacher who prevented me from participating in the school choir. She had me try to sing a song that I had never heard before by reading from sheet music that I did not know how to read and declared that I "could not sing" when I failed to sing it correctly. Fast-forward 25 years: daughter of friend got the same woman as her 2nd grade teacher. Daughter came home crying because she did poorly on a test and the teacher told her it was because she was "too stupid to learn it". Yes: this teacher was known to be a bad teacher but could not be fired for the reasons we all already know. She destroyed the confidence of many children.

I had a 5th grade teacher who liked to invite the boys (never the girls) to his home for "extra credit work". My parents never let me go, thank goodness. A few years later, he was sent to prison for the reason that you can all probably guess from these clues. This teacher also wrecked many young lives.

Every one of my other teachers was very good, very dedicated, very professional. I had maybe 30 or 40 teachers between all my different classes from Kindergarten through grade 12. Exactly two were rotten; the rest were wonderful.

I graduated from high school in 1974.

WestSacRob

Like others, my best/favorite elementary teachers were men, a dieing breed. 5th Mr. Skamfer from Eau Claire, WI and 6th Mr. Olmstead who always turned beat red when a pretty mother visited the classroom.

The one I owe the most to is an unknown name 2nd grade teacher I had for a few months when we lived in another school district for a short time.

She was not sure of where to place me for reading level based on what teaching text I said I used in the prior district. I was in the middle and low groups. She placed me in the top group of math and reading and I have never looked back or down.

In first grade, I had problems saying my s & t consonants, so I had to go to speech therapy for a bit of each school day. I don't have problems any more, but the speech therapist's name was Mrs. Thorstensen, which is a tough name for a little kid to try an pronounce, much less a kid who can't pronounce an 's' or 't' correctly.

After I attended kindergarten and 1st grade in the local public school system (which was not stellar at that time), those two wonderful teachers met with my parents and suggested that they look into private school. They both felt that the local schools would not help me achieve my true potential. Although I strongly suspect that my abilities were overestimated, my parents did send me to a fantastic private school for 2nd through 12th grades. I was very fortunate to have wonderful teachers for all of those 11 years, the only exceptions being my 3rd grade teacher, who was only in her 30s, yet with the inflexibility one might expect from a burned-out teacher of 30+ years' experience, and a high-school French teacher from Paris who was participating in an exchange program which sent our amazing French teacher to Paris for a year. Mademoiselle was one of the most unpleasant people I've ever met and made her disdain for both children and Americans known from Day One.

One of my most memorable teachers was my 4th grade homeroom teacher, who was an amazing and dynamic man who made math a joy to learn. Unfortunately, we learned of his personal demon when he showed up one morning acting very strangely, being silly and having trouble standing. Later that morning he was escorted out of the building by the Head of School. We had a new teacher for the rest of the year and were told that Mr. N was in the "hospital" being "treated" for an undisclosed illness. I can't remember if he returned to the school or not once he had recovered. I hope so.

My senior year, I took Advanced Placement English with the head of the department, a Ph.D. This class was composed of the best and brightest, most of whom had been at the school since at least 7th grade, knew each other like siblings, and were accustomed to being told how wonderful we were. On the second day of class, Dr. J came in carrying the essays we'd written the day before. She set them down and looked at them for a long time before speaking. "I was told," she said, "that this class represented this school's best and brightest writers. But this stack of papers [long pause] is the worst tripe I have ever read in my life." We knew then that we were about to work harder than we'd ever worked before...and we did.

With so many fantastic teachers in my past, I suppose it was inevitable that I became a teacher myself. I only hope I'm half as good as some of my own teachers were. Working in the public school system, I'm appalled at how difficult (read: impossible) it is for the administration to get rid of bad teachers once they have tenure. Coming from a private-school experience where a bad teacher wouldn't even last a year, this was a shock to me. And it's just wrong.

Hands down, my favorite teacher was Mark Segal, my 7th grade English teacher. It was 1969, at Bryant Jr. High, in Mpls. Mr. Segal enCOURAGEd me to write a classic, “The Tortoise and The Hare.” I was deathly afraid and wanted to get it right. Mr. Segal got me and understood what doubts I had, he took the time to make the connection, he listened and he genuinely cared. With his encouragement I took the challenge and walked on water by writing that story my way. I was so proud when he chose to read my story out of the 29 others in front of the classroom and he was right, it was good; “Bang!! Their off and running, the Tortoise and the Hare…….. I also took a hatpin in my hand from a jealous classmate but it was worth it, as I needed that confirmation to believe I had value and everyone doesn’t need to be the same, as he looked like a hippie with his long hair and jeans. By example and with encouragement he taught me to believe in myself. I was a small voice in a large school that was confused by the times of racial hatred in the city and US. Funny what you hang on to when the times are tough and whose voice echoes through still years later. Thank you Mark Segal.

My best teacher was not appreciated for at least thirty-four years after my year in her class.

Ruth Shelton from James Rutter Junior High School in Sacramento, California; year 1972, ninth grade English.

Every night, and I mean EVERY NIGHT, she would require us to find ten complicated sentences and then write a sentence of our own using that same structure. I hated every minute of it.

Then, somewhere around the age of 49, I realized I could write. And write well. And I realized it was because I had a teacher who cared enough to be a slave driver when it came to writing and a champion of reading.

She was the last of the old school teachers.

Then there was Jim Hengel, math teacher extraordinaire who I had for algebra and geometry. A man of few words, but helped me realize I had the ability to learn (and be good at) math. I've been out of high school for 33 years and I heard he just now retired.

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http://www.emergiblog.com
Blog child of Hugh Hewitt and James Lileks

I'm not sure of the spelling. Might be Reiss. Or Reece, or Reese. Hey, it was a long time ago. She was my first grade teacher at Hamilton Elementary School (at 44th and N. Fremont, Mpls. -- and long ago torn down), class of 1953. She was fresh out of college, full of enthusiasm, loved teaching, loved the kids. She was no flash in the pan, either; someone sent me a clipping a few years ago noting her retirement-- she was still a "Miss" -- after some 50 years of teaching elementary school.
She gave creative writing assignments to us first graders. I remember one in which I managed to use the word hypochondriac, which Miss Riess found extremely amusing. God bless her, wherever she is.

Aside from one horrible teacher in Fifth grade (that my parents transferred me to another school to get me away from) I didn't have a whole lot of bad ones, but in response to the original question, I'd have to say that it was not a teacher at all, but the school librarian at my junior high school who had the most influence on me, although it happened in kind of a roundabout way. As I grew up, I always had some sort of interest in computers, although it wasn't until sometime around 1990/1991 or so that my parents got us our first PC. Mrs. Morhart (the librarian in question) somehow decided that because I had a PC at home (not nearly as common then as it is now) that I was somehow qualified to do hardware upgrades on the library PCs. The fact that I managed to do this without destroying anything meant that I was asked to work on the computers on a number of other occasions. By coincidence, when I went into ninth grade she also transferred to the high school (the only one in the district) and I continued to consult with the library staff (and eventually other teachers at the school) on fixing and upgrading systems, it got to the point where I was eventually getting called out of class to fix things.

Unfortunately, my family moved away from there before I could graduate, but the computer skills that I had to hastily acquire to make it look like I knew what I was doing have heavily influenced my career direction, and in many ways are directly responsible for where I am now. I believe that she just retired last year after a 35-year career with the school district down there.

My first grade teacher, a chubby older women with a completely unflappable personality who just oozed warmth and love. She has remained my ideal of a teacher ever since (and I've had some other very good teachers). Of course, Ms Blockley made the complete witch I got in second grade quite a rude shock, from which I am not sure I ever completely recovered.

I remember Sister Jean Marie most of all. I had her for sixth and seventh grade math. Other teachers called her "an institution." We called her old. We figured she'd probably taught Galileo math. We also figured she was probably the person who turned him in to the church.

I had her for homeroom in sixth grade too. Some mornings she'd come in with little pieces of toilet paper stuck to her chin and cheeks. I kid you not, the woman shaved. She was tall, maybe six feet and rail thin. Her hands were like vice grips and her stare was hot and furious. She was lighting quick and razor sharp. And she was old school; she wore the habit and the blue dress. Always. Some of the other nuns, like Sister Lee, wore the habit at school, but took it off when they went... wherever it was that nuns go. Back to the nunnery, I suppose. Sister Lee was fun. She taught religion and drove a black Firebird Trans-am (complete with giant decal). She called me "Red" for an entire year. Sister Jean Marie didn't drive a car. We all figured that she lived in the cloakroom and ate spiders.

But she taught me math. I remember once I failed a quiz. As punishment, Sister Jean Marie told me to write out the names of all fifty States and their capitals. I didn't do it. So she doubled it. "Write them all out twice." I didn't do it. "Double it." This went on daily for some time. It was like a ritual, we'd all file into class and sit down. She'd read attendance, (Yes, that's right. She'd read attendance. There was no calling out at any time in Sister Jean Marie's class.) she'd double my punishment. The days wore on. It was a kind of math lesson. By the end of the year, my punishment was to write out the States and their capitals over 16 million times. I remember figuring it out with a friend. If I wrote one word a second, nonstop, 24-hours a day, everyday for fifty years, I still wouldn't finish... more...

I liked my 4th grade teacher at Burwell Elementary School next to Minnetonka Mills.
Her name was Audrey Wittnebel. She was highly organized and structured. We had a student teacher that year, also...Miss Hepp. She looked like a movie star. She taught us songs with actions: Pick a Bale of Cotton & Little Brown Girl..from Hawaii. I also liked the regular music teacher at Burwell: Miss Birkland. We sang so many songs in music class. Miss Birkland's facial expressions were very animated. I am now a music teacher, not as organized as Mrs. Wittnebel, not glamorous like Miss Hepp, somewhat animated like Miss Birkland. I love kids & music! Thanks, Teachers!

I had a lot of good teachers--yes, in NYC public schools--but the best/my favorite was Mrs. Herschenhous in fourth grade. We did so many creative things--learned calligraphy, did a chocolate-chip cookie taste-test (she chose me to write to Entenmann's to inform them that they'd won), daily word puzzles... :)