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Linda Fetter was my best teacher. She’s almost certainly retired or maybe not even alive anymore based on her age when I first met her and how many years it has been since I graduated high school, therefore I think it’s okay to mention her by name here. I have never seen anything about her online, so I doubt she’ll ever know about this post even if she is still with us.
The first class I took with her was ninth grade Language Arts, and I loved how clearly she explained the grammar lessons she taught to us. She knew just how to use the right metaphors when we weren’t quite getting it.
Our class was the first period of the day. If we acted too sleepy, she’d have us stand up and do a few jumping jacks to get our blood pumping which I always found amusing.
Later on I took a mandatory speech course as well as two elective courses with her that involved nothing but reading from a pre-selected list of classic novels. The latter were a nice break from the classes I took that had heavy homework loads as all she required of us was that we spend a few minutes reading every night after school. It was so much easier than conjugating irregular Spanish verbs or trying to figure out quadratic equations.
She also added little flourishes to her lessons that I will never forget. For example, she’d play classical music and give us peppermints to suck on during exams because she’d read studies that showed those things improved test scores. (Whether they are still thought to be helpful, I don’t know. She paid attention to the latest academic research of the time, though.)
Sometimes we’d go outside for class at the end of the year when the weather was really nice. That was always a refreshing break from the stuffy classrooms as our school didn’t have air conditioning and it could get rather hot and humid by the beginning of June.
I loved the care and concern she showed for her students and wished she could have taught Language Arts for grades 10, 11, and 12 as well.
Learn to Solve an Integral (A Calculus Parody of One Direction’s “What Makes You Beautiful”)
Since you can’t do that, I’m going to give two answers.
This is what a typical day in my life looks like not counting the usual stuff like making breakfast or checking the mail:
I’ve read that public figures of all sorts were traditionally taught how to speak to the media early on in their careers. As in, shortly before they were signed to a record label, decided to run for office, chosen as a new player for a sports team, had their book approved for publication, or experienced something similarly life changing, they were given lessons on how to talk to reporters and how to steer a conversation away from matters they’d rather not discuss.
I’ve talked about living with a food allergy previously on my blog, so the topic I’m picking for this week’s prompt is migraines.
The existence of media training makes this week’s theme a tricky one. Just because a celebrity has developed a particular public image doesn’t mean that they are at all like that persona behind closed doors.
Age 18. Exams were wrapping up, and winter break was just about to begin. I sat in my college library and thumbed through the magazines they had there, paying special attention to the ones about science, literature, or history. It was neither a big library nor a fancy one, but I loved how quiet and peaceful it always was. I spent a lot of time there between classes even if I didn’t have any papers to write or upcoming tests to study for.
I’ve been looking forward to this topic for months! Let’s see if our ideas of unusual hobbies and interests match up.
Imaginative. I was always imagining something in my mind no matter what else I was doing. Sometimes I talked to myself quietly about the beautiful stories that were going on in my mind.