In about a week I'll be participating in an
"exit interview" with members of the SMJCS board. I'm glad they're
doing that and hope that it is or becomes a part of the retirement protocol.
Finalizing that appointment provided the impetus to finish the (rather long)
piece below that I had already started.
It was two and half years at SSDS and another one
and a half at SMJCS. All those letters weren't really a problem, given my other
jobs had been at HP and WG (HS). Hmmm, just like Hebrew, no vowels.
I thought I'd spend a few words (turns out, more
than a few) partially summing up my four years in a religiously oriented
private school after having spent 37 years on the public side. If you're
looking for a public-private comparison and contrast, you'll have to wait. My
ideas on the plusses and minuses of these distinct but parallel systems are
coming later, after aging some more in oak barrels. In any case, this is just
about my four years at Schechter/Mirowitz.
Part of my motivation is that I stubbed my toe on
the way out the door and kind of stumbled ungracefully to my car, dropping
things and bumping into people along the way. Although metaphorical and not
literal, it is a source of regret and I wish I had exited in a manner
consistent with how I felt about my time there.
Let there be no mistake: I loved my time at this
school. (It may have changed names, but for me it was always the same school
and the many positives and few negatives had nothing to do with the merger or
different personnel.) I loved the kids, the parents, my colleagues. There
wasn't a single day that I came to or went home from work feeling down or bad.
My years here brought me joy.
I know it seems inconceivable to those who know me
that I lasted four days, much less four years, in a religious school. It is
surprising to me, as well, and I don't think that tenure would have been
possible in a school sponsored by any other religion. You might be surprised to
learn that, during my four years in the Middle School, not one of the general studies teachers
was Jewish.
With apologies in advance to anyone who might be
offended, I can't imagine any other religion or religious school being secure
enough in its beliefs and traditions to allow not just non-believers, but men
and women active in and committed to their own churches, to teach their
children. When I was "interviewed" by the class I would eventually be
hired to teach, they asked me what religion I was. I answered, somewhat
disingenuously, that my "spiritual journey was ongoing." The Head of
the Upper School, as it was called then, just barely succeeded in not laughing
out loud.
I learned a ton from my kids. Like many
adolescents, they were often less than reverent with all the prayers and
rituals, but were happy to explain anything I wondered about. I also did my
best to honestly answer the numerous questions they had about Christianity,
although I'm not sure I would have been anyone's choice of emissary.
Nevertheless, I think my skepticism
made it clear I was just trying to provide objective information, and that made
me a valuable, if not expert, source.
I was also fortunate enough to have (and
share a room with) a different Judaics teacher each year, as well as interact
with numerous rabbis and Hebrew teachers. Thanks to them, I grew,
intellectually and yes, spiritually, in a warm, welcoming, open, and
big-hearted community. I discovered that it is virtually impossible to be with
any significant number of Jews without having a rabbi in the vicinity. One of
the things I just loved was that every one of those rabbis wanted to share with
me what was going on in the ceremony or celebration, not in any kind of attempt
to fix me (I'm pretty sure I'm broken beyond repair) but simply out of pride,
generosity, and love.
I don't want to go on and on, but while I came to
accept and even expect the openness of this school and community, I am still in
awe, because it went so far beyond what might have been anticipated.
I made dear friends, observed incredible
colleagues, shared memorable experiences with kids. I like to think I became a
pretty good middle school teacher. (When they hired me to teach
eighth graders, they took a chance not just on a heathen, but on a guy
with extremely limited middle school experience, and virtually all of that as a
counselor.) My first year, I had 16 eighth graders who had pretty much
been together for close to a decade. It was a challenge, but I'm guessing for them
as much as me. It was the first time, but not the last, all at this school,
that I heard the following expression of wonderment: "We've never had a
teacher like you, Mr. Berndt." It was as much a statement of confusion as
a compliment.
I'd never had a crew like them, either, but I
really liked them (and will remember each of them fondly). They were bright,
curious (but with their own agendas), and almost completely unmanageable, at
least in the sense of following a
structured curriculum or even a daily plan. Fortunately, as near as I could
tell, there really wasn't a structured curriculum. What I was told I was to
teach pretty much went off the table after the first day when I found out they
hadn't learned – or even been taught – what allegedly had been the curriculum.
We turned out to be a good fit. They had questions, albeit generally irrelevant
to what I had planned to teach them, and I am essentially incapable of not answering an interesting
question, which leads to another.... Well, you get the picture.
Apparently I answered enough questions that the
next year I was asked to add the sixth grade to my load, and what started
out as a 2-3 hour a day job turned into an almost full-time position. The next
year there were two sixth grades and I ended up with both of those. My
final year saw me with mostly sixth and seventh graders (that there
were only three eighth graders also had something to do with it). The guy
hired because he had high school experience (with the goal of
"pushing" the eighth graders and getting them ready for high school)
ended up as a pure middle school teacher.
There is no question my teaching style became,
shall we say, chaotic. But who's to say that the students' questions were less
important than my planned curriculum. Usually I found my way back to where I
wanted to be, but it was almost always via the back country roads and seldom on
the interstate highways.
For these kids, and me as their tour guide, I think
this was the best way to travel. Those pathways are closing as conformity and
uniformity are becoming more prevalent; it became time to leave the driving to
someone more willing to stick to the pre-programmed GPS.
In any case, the journey has ended, but what a rich
and fulfilling journey it was, and I will remember and be thankful for it as one
of the best times of my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment