I'm finding myself reminiscing a lot about my high school days. Last summer I returned to Cleveland to attend my 25th high school reunion at an all boys Jesuit college prep school. Friends warned me I wouldn't recognize a lot of my classmates, many of whom I hadn't seen since graduation.
I prepared myself for a multitude of paunchy stomachs and unrecognizable balding heads. But overall I was amazed at how many fellows resembled their younger selves and appeared happy and content with life.
Last week, I paid a visit to Lakeside School to learn more about a work opportunity. Lakeside reminds me a lot of my own high school, except there are girls. There's a large, leafy campus with playfields and various red brick buildings of a certain era. The school places paramount importance on civic involvement and educating young activists who will give back to society.
Furthermore my trip to Lakeside reminded me of one of society's most valuable resources: teachers, who quietly make a tremendous impact on the young minds of students in their care. Often these unsung heroes are overshadowed by contemporaries in more glamorous professions: the sports star, the entertainer, the successful business executive. Nowadays, money and fame capture the glorifying attention of the spotlight.
I don't come from a lineage of teachers. Most of my family built things-my father and uncle built homes, another uncle crafted space rockets, one cousin assembled cars. But my family valued education. They recognized a college degree opened up countless doors in life. They wanted that opportunity for me.
I remember feeling intimidated by many of the faculty in high school. My favorites included Mr. Dowd, a tall, bespectacled, tweed coat wearing Latin teacher, and Mr. Knittel, the shorter, natty, fast talking Ancient Greek instructor. I spent hours in the library, uncovering the adventures of Aeneas and Homer's "Odyssey" with my dorky but brainy classmates, many of whom later became theater geeks with me in the drama club, where we encountered the not-so-pleasant machinations of Father Torina, an alcoholic priest with a pithy bite, who directed deft, brilliant musicals, comedies and dramas.
When I entered college, one of my first classes was with Dr. Kathleen Barber, a lanky, angular woman with a shock of white hair. She resembled an American eagle with black spectacles. Dr. Barber is the professor who inspired me to select political science as my major. Like Professor Kingsfield in "The Paper Chase" she would stroll around the room and ask questions about the readings for that day.
I learned about the federal system of government, checks and balances and the role of a free press thanks to her tutelage. I studied state government and was inspired to get involved in the short presidential campaign of Ohio Senator John Glenn on account of her passionate engagement. And my senior year, I nearly suffered a nervous collapse while taking constitutional law and civil rights and liberties thanks to her command of the subject and willingness to push her students to learn case law via the Socratic Method. She inspired me to do better. I wanted to make her proud. This is the mark of a great teacher.
When I entered graduate school at the University of Washington, I knew from day one I wanted Professor Hubert Locke, former dean of the Evans School of Public Affairs, to be my adviser. An expert on the Holocaust, community policing and race and ethnicity, I was drawn to him like a moth to the flame.
His erudite manner and authoritative use of the English language kept me in rapt attention. He challenged me to examine systems and ask the difficult questions about poverty, violence and intolerance that hadn't crossed my mind before studying with him. I discovered that moral authority didn't necessarily involve religion all the time, but fairness, justice and equal opportunity.
I didn't see my Latin, Greek or drama teacher when I visited my hometown last year. But I wrote Dr. Barber after the 2004 election and thanked her for inspiring me to learn and think about the challenges inherent in a democracy and the ability of citizens to make a difference. We discovered we both were supporters of Howard Dean before, during and after his flameout in Iowa. She touted Gov. Chris Gregoire as one of her Emily's List picks.
Professor Locke and I enjoy lunch now and then, or a night out to the theater when we can swing it. Whenever I am in his company I feel like there is something important to discuss which cannot wait. It's a beautiful thing, keeping the company of a teacher you admire and respect.
The awareness that I'm a different person because of the attention, the instruction I received, leaves me with a feeling of pride and brilliance. I've not strayed far from the field of education in my professional career. It's a job for some, a calling for many, and for those special few a badge of honor and humane distinction.
Jack Hilovsky's column appears in the second issue of each month. Reach him at editor@capitolhilltimes.com.
[[In-content Ad]]
