School Days

I was always a good student. I liked school. I looked up to my teachers. I was in my element. Perhaps that's the reason I happily became an English teacher when we moved to Israel. School was just my thing. Such memories of long ago.... I remember my third grade teacher, Miss Hurley, tying a ribbon around my fountain pen, the kind we dipped in ink wells, because she approved of the way I formed my letters. I remember Mr. Casey, my seventh grade math teacher who, responding to my tears during a difficult math test, kindly allowed me to go to the school nurse with "a stomach ache." I remember Mr. Vera, my junior high school science teacher, who agreed to disregard my failing mark on a science test when told by my mother that my parakeet had died the night before, and I just couldn't concentrate the following day. I picture him coming home that night and telling his wife, "Honey, this you are not going to believe."

But the teacher I remember most was Mr. Van Steenbergen, my 10th and 11th grade German teacher upon whom I modeled my own approach to education. Mr V., as we called him, was strict, well organized, always prepared, and expected the same of us. At the same time, I don't ever recall seeing him without a gleam in his eye and an impish smile on his face, a smile that said I like you, boys, and I understand you, sometimes all too well. Mr. V organized his classes in this way: once a week, on the same day of the week, there would be a big test, and once a week, on an unspecified day, there would be a quiz - this to keep us on our toes and to review in the evening what we had learned that day in class. For some reason he called quizzes flyers and so, on the day he would choose to give us a quiz, he would get up from behind his desk, walk over to the big classroom window, look up into the sky and say, "Good flying weather today, boys." And that would be the sign that the quiz was soon to be.

I most liked learning the German proverbs that he taught us. He would write the proverb on the blackboard explaining the spelling and grammar points and then would ask who knows an equivalent to this proverb in English. He thought he was teaching us German but, unbeknownst to him, he was teaching me English as well, how the wisdom of generations was distilled in an American way. Morgenstund hat Gold im Mund (literally, the morning hour has gold in its mouth) became, the early bird catches the worm. Was Hanschen nicht lernt, lernt Hansnimmermehr (literally, what the younger Hans doesn't learn, the older Hans will never learn) became, you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Morgen, Morgen nur nicht heute sagen alle faulen Leute (literally, Tomorrow, tomorrow, just not today, is what all lazy people say) became, a stitch in time saves nine.

When I became a teacher, I aspired to be one like Mr. V. I always returned tests the very next day and would tell the class if I expected them to be ready for a test, then I expected no less of myself in returning them in a timely manner. I always tried to be kind and understanding of them; I hope I had a gleam in my eye, but an impish smile on my face just wasn't me. I taught them English proverbs and the students loved finding their equivalents in classical or modern Hebrew.

Mr. V. passed away years ago. I never had the opportunity to tell him what I thought of him and thank him for being the kind of teacher we all should have. It is said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. How do you say that in German, Mr. V?