Recently, I was reminded of an important reality: how valuable the creation of the teacher-student relationship is — something too often minimized in this age where test scores are used to evaluate teacher effectiveness.
I attended a conference where Jack O’Connell, state superintendent of Public Instruction for the California Department of Education, delivered a keynote address. He commented on the new three “Rs” for education — rigor, relevance and relationships.
Following this conference, I took a business trip to New York City; I was meeting with the editors at Publishers Weekly to discuss a book I helped create with six of my students. The book, How to Grow a Child: A Child’s Advice to Parents, was first published more than 30 years ago and is being republished in 2009. At the meeting, co-author Ann Arthur and I spoke about our lasting relationship and how we are wonderfully impacted by that bond.
During the trip, I also contacted five other former students with whom I have stayed in contact for 35 to 40 years. One of them was Linda Harriston Piechota who was in my fifth-grade class in 1972.
She told me about one moment that had a profound impact on her life:
One week, I was the Flunk-Mr.-Percy monitor. Each week, one student was assigned to flunk Mr. Percy if he broke any of his agreements with the class — for example, "Never to yell at the class." Since losing control was rare for Mr. Percy, when it was my week for flunk duty, I thought nothing of this rule.
However, during my week, some students participated in a prank that infuriated Mr. Percy. He yelled at us at the top of his lungs. I knew what I had to do, but I was frozen. He had to be flunked, but I didn’t want him to be angry with me. At the same time, I was afraid that he would be disappointed in me if I didn’t take my job seriously.
Finally I yelled out, "Flunk! Mr. Percy, you’re yelling!" and ducked my head under my desk.
He yelled back to me, "No, I will not accept this flunk!"
But a few seconds later, he said, "I’m sorry, I will accept the flunk. I lost my temper."
Later that day, Mr. Percy said to me privately, “Linda, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to flunk somebody who was that angry. I’m really proud of you.”
For this man to tell me that he was proud of me for doing something that I knew was right, but was frightened to do, changed me forever. I learned that I had to do the right thing, even if I was afraid. From that point on, my shyness virtually disappeared, and I became a confident individual — I would stand up for my rights no matter what. I still do, and I will never forget where it started.
As we focus on the value, profound influence and benefit of digital education, we must never forget relationships — the third “R” — and how important they are to creating a successful educational experience. We must remember that even one moment can leave a legacy far beyond what was intended or predicted.
*This story is from Converge magazine's Winter 2009 issue.
