As a fourth-year student, the time has come for unapologetic nostalgia. The end of my college career is approaching and I find myself looking back at all of my great experiences. I often find myself focusing on the sheer brilliance of so many of the professors who have devoted time and energy to ensuring success, not only for myself, but for anyone willing to ask for help.
While the University is indeed brimming with excellence, I would be quick to assure you that I've had fantastic educators since very early in my life. I have been blessed to learn from many outstanding teachers, but there is one to whom I feel I can never give enough thanks or praise. Therefore, I would like to dedicate this column to my first grade teacher, Mrs. Suzanne Goins.\nFirst, allow me to provide a bit of context, specifically about myself.
I don't want to brag, but I was intellectually advanced in first grade. I would never assert that I was smarter, but I was certainly more interested in learning than my 5-year-old peers. For example, one of the best and most exciting gifts my parents have ever given me is the Hooked on Phonics reading system.
As a 3-year-old, I would unfold the giant alphabet blanket and demand that my parents take notice as I casually made my way through the letters, "A, apple; B, ball; C, cat," and so on and so forth. I had them smiling through gritted teeth by the time I reached "moon."
I took a great deal of pride in my abilities and never wanted to stop flooding my brain with words. Despite countless yard sales and charity donations, my parents managed to hold on to the old Playskool tape player I used to lay my head on every single night, listening to letters and sounds as I fell asleep.
You can imagine my excitement when I reached elementary school. It was my time to shine, and I had made meticulous preparations for showing my teachers on the very first day just how capable I was. I remember a sense of relaxation throughout kindergarten as I noticed I wasn't exerting as much effort as the other students. Little did I know that Mrs. Goins would be the remedy for my arrogance.
Given my experience the previous year, it made sense that I should enter first grade with a sense of pride. Having used flash cards all summer to keep myself sharp, I felt as though the work had been done. I prepared for another year of breezing through school. It took mere days before my plans were foiled, however.
Mrs. Goins was on to me. She could tell that I was not putting forth my best efforts, relying on getting by while others were pushing themselves, and she was not going to tolerate it. I remember the day she held me inside during recess to discuss how things were going to change.
Although I don't recall the conversation in its entirety, I remember her emphasis on two things. One, being ahead of the other children for now certainly did not mean that I was any better or smarter. Second, I was not fulfilling my potential by allowing myself to perform at less than my best.
From that point on, Mrs. Goins asked that I choose an extra book to read at home, outside of class. I would also present her with a summary of each book that I read. I recall vividly her stipulation that I might choose only one - one! - Power Ranger book. This was preposterous to my immature mind. At first, I felt that I was being punished for achieving, but with my 20/20 hindsight, it is clear that Mrs. Goins knew exactly what she was doing.
Turns out, the extra reading and writing outside of class lit a passion for words which has never left me. For the rest of my elementary years, I continued writing in any open one-subject notebook I could find. Who could have guessed that I would find opportunities years later to write for websites, companies, newspapers and magazines?
I believe that being an educator, especially of younger kids, can be a thankless job. Many times it's impossible to witness any results until much later in life, when the student has many other things on his mind. It's for this reason that I wanted to say a special thank you to Mrs. Goins and to let her know that when I look back at the blur between first grade and my final year of college, there are only a few memories which emerge from the haze into focus. Among them is an image of a young boy who learned the importance of doing his best and always working to fulfill his potential, especially when Mrs. Goins gets tough.
Tyler's column runs biweekly Wednesdays. He can be reached at t.deboard@cavalierdaily.com.
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