My Favorite Coolteacher- Rebel With A Cause
Posted: Tuesday, July 27, 2010
by Ella Camp
The smell of perfume mixed with cigarette smoke always evokes memories of my 6th grade Social Studies teacher Miss Morris; she was the only female teacher at John Henry Brown Elementary School who smoked cigarettes. The bottle of Jungle Gardenia perfume, which she kept secreted in a desk drawer next to her pack of Lucky Strikes, was used to liberally shower her clothes when she returned from the teachers' lounge. To the girls in this class of 1953, she seemed glamorous and sophisticated; her smoking only lent credence to that glamour; as our icons of sophistication and beauty on the silver screen validated- The babies have come a long way.
One of the things that set Miss Morris apart was her divergence from the stern-faced, straight-laced, tightly curled, henna-haired, sensible-shoed personifications of the stereotypical female teacher of that era. Her mannerisms and modes of dress, walking and speaking were unique to the individual spontaneity of her character. The customary manner in which she habitually brushed the loose waves of her dark, glossy, shoulder-length hair away from her eyes, idly tapping her long, deep red nails against the desk-top, as she waited for us to finish our weekly-Reader test, was noted by us in feminine alliance. Dressed in purple or navy blue snug-fitting skirts and sweaters, she sauntered down the halls with an undulating confident stroll, in 3 inch high heeled black pumps. At times I would hear her low throaty laugh humorously rumbling beside her slow southern drawl as she stood in the doorway conversing with the school principal Mr. Whitaker. Her mascara-lashed eyes, an expressive mixture of green and blue, seemed to hold a knowing secret as she gazed out across the classroom in pensive contemplation; knowledge that in our burgeoning feminine selves, we longed to possess. To our eager inquisitive adolescence, Miss Morris suggested the epitome of feminine mystique- self-confident, erudite and beautiful; yet compassionate, understanding, sympathetic and kind.
Her singular efforts to address my individual privations often took the form of contrived errands to the school office; distributing and collecting test papers; leading the pledge of allegiance, and reciting poetry in front of the class; coveted elections, which though trifling, did grant a gratifying significance and distinction to a child thirsting for recognition. And although at times this distinction did invite the teasing, and sometimes sneering epithet "teacher's pet," this taunting was, by some, recognized as too bilious to be just, and was borne by me, in tolerant stoicism within the glow of my fulfilled approbation.
Every 6th grader at Brown Elementary school expressed the hope to be included in Miss Morris' class; which maintained, as a result of the ambience of equanimity and freedom, the highest grade average in the entire school. Miss Morris never berated an unfortunate malefactor in front of the other students; he or she, more often he, was instead calmly invited into the hallway for private instructions concerning their relapse in proper classroom etiquette. Although unity does not always mean unanimity, our coalition of shared respect and admiration for our teacher and free rein for the spectrum of our ideas, prohibited acrimonious disputes from becoming a frequent occurrence. At surprising intervals, classroom clown antics were allowed expression as hilarious laughter rang out in relief of tension and angst.
At weeks end, after all required curriculum had been satisfied, the last half hour of class was, in a ritualistic fashion, surrendered to our emerging musical appreciation, as each one in turn was given the opportunity to bring and play their own favorite 45 RPM record on the small phonograph Miss Morris kept in a corner of the room; a highly anticipated reward for our weekly efforts. If patience and tolerance are virtues, Miss Morris possessed them in spades, as the jarring rambunctious strains of Rock n Roll music assaulted her, I'm sure more refined sensibilities and ears, from 3:00 til 3:30 pm every Friday afternoon. To the girls, Miss Morris was familiar and companionable; the boys she observed with a tolerant amused, yet wise and wary eye. She was the most well-liked teacher in the school- among the students that is
As we gathered for classes the following Fall, I remembered the last time I had seen Miss Morris. It was during the cattle stampede-like rush after the last bell had rung heralding the summer break. As we passed in the hall, she had waved with a conspiratorial smile and wink.
As we marched over the threshold of Jr. high school with the cool confidence she had instilled in us; I thought I heard her whisper at my shoulder: "Be yourself, and be the best you, you can be." When the report was circulated that Miss Morris had been transferred to another school district, I thought of the new 6th graders at John Henry Brown Elementary school, and suddenly felt sad at their loss.
At pinpoints in time people drift into and out of our lives as ships passing in the night, and you know there was a reason why we saw each others lights.
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More commentsYou took me back and I too remember my 6th grade teacher Miss Kretchmer - wow, the memories. Thanks for grabbing our hands and taking us with you!Thanks Marijo- I'd like to read about Miss Kretchmer someday-- Always- Ella
Wow! Sometimes wish you weren't such a great writer, as I am running out of plaudits to express my appreciation, but while I am here (wink, wink), you are certainly a product of some of the finer, and most gracious influences in your life, and I am sure they are, or would be both very proud and admire the person that you have become, and that they helped inspire. As always, looking forward to more.And you are certainly gracious with your comments- you buff my ego well- ( wink wink) back- Thanks David- Always- Ella
Did you ever look into how her career/life went after? I had two teachers in my life that made so much positive difference in my life it would take a month to showcase! I never thought that it was maybe meant to be...maybe. Thanks for a great article.I never saw her again- I did think of her from time-to-time tho- when something sparked my memories- I really hope she had a happy life- she deserved it- Thank you so much for reading my story, and taking the time to comment- I appreciate it! Always- EllaBy the way, great new pic.And so is yours- Thanks- a- lot-
What a beautiful recollection of your teacher. Miss Morris sounds like a wonderful teacher. I agree, there's always a reason people pass in and out of your life, although we may not understand it at the time. Beautifully written Ella.When we're young we don't have a lot to look back on- anyway, we're too busy running forward to look back. Then when we get a few years behind us, we can slow down a little and look back and see the reasons for a lot of things. Reflections on our life can help us gage our progress so far- Thanks Brianna, for reading and commenting- I still appreciate it- Always- Ella
Gosh, Ella, what a powerful portrayal, and what a fabulous tribute to her! You're so good at sensual writing.Thanks Jenn- now if I could just get good at BEING sensual I'd have it made huh? LOL- Always- Ella
Great article. This could be ranked up there with the Statler Brothers' "The Class of '57" Good job.Thanks Bob- you are so kind- Look forward to seeing you again- please do come back- Always- Ella
ella, a very fine look into to past of someone who inspired many i am sure. she lives still here in your story.many of the boys perhaps were not inspired in the same way. but, we learn later about the things of greater value in the passing of time-bingI'm sure the boys were not inspired in the same way as the girls- But perhaps they did come away with a better understanding and greater respect for women- both sides of them- Thanks Bing- Always- Ellaella, well...having been an eleven year old boy...it is much more complicated than that!!Are 11 yr old boys that complicated? LOL- I was then an 11 yr. old girl- I don't think I fully realized what I gleaned from the experience until yrs. later...
Great article. Yes, it's amazing the way your favorite teachers can influence your life. Some you forget, but some you will never forget and be ever grateful that they believed in you; and themselves for that matter.Thanks Susan- That's true- before a person can instill a quality in someone else, they must possess that quality themselves.Teachers are in a unique position to pass on their good qualities, or lack thereof, to a vast number of young impressionable people- it's a great responsibility- some handle it better than others.-Thanks for reading and commenting- Always- Ella
This is a very beautiful article from a young little girl's observation in the growing age of her Teacher. We all had been through that around the learning age, The impact can have certain effects as we grow into adulthood. I too, had one sophisticated teacher who would wear heavy make-up and a pair of 3" high-heeled corked or leather shoes matching with her dress colour. Honestly and secretly, she was always the hot gossip topic in class among us. (all girls school) and some of us actually got quite jealous of her fashionable attires.Those were the days, Ella....Thanks Hilda. for reading my story- I enjoyed writing it- sometimes that seems like a hundred years ago- then at times I remember it like it was yesterday......" ant it funny how time slips away" What song is that from? Can't remember- LOL- Always- Ella
Ella, you described your teacher so well that I can see her sauntering. As is always the case, change happens and you left for junior highschool and the teacher transferred. The latest 6th grade group will have to find another inspirational teacher. Well told and highly enjoyable read.Thank you so much- I wish I knew your name, it doesn't feel right to call you any of the above- although it does reveal your attitude of forthright honesty- which I do respect and admire. Thanks again for reading and commenting. Always- Ella
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