Tomorrow is the first day of school. I do what I do because my dad saw a teacher in me long before I did. Back when life was simpler, he hired me to work as an aide at Murray Ave School where he was principal. When I wasn’t busy he made sure I was in classrooms of gifted teachers who loved what they did. Eventually I got it; eventually I understood teaching was my vocation. That was more than thirty years ago and while it hasn’t always been an easy ride, I never doubted it was the right path for me.
When I landed at my current job as a school librarian in 2001 he was thrilled. His condo was across the street from my new school and he had spent some time there volunteering when he and my mom first moved to Cos Cob. I could count on him to pop in once or twice a week. He’d ask questions about the current state of education, what I was working on with the kids, what the kids were like and remind me how lucky I was.
When he heard my colleague Sue and I were organizing what we hoped would be an annual reading celebration, he was the first to volunteer. Wally loved the idea of being with kids again and my very kind colleagues would let him go way beyond his fifteen minute time slot. Of all the notes I received when he passed away, one written by a third grade teacher perfectly described who my dad was:
“I know I only met him a few times, but knew he was an exceptional man. I loved when he came to my class to read for Read Across America. He would bring in his thick book about Albert Einstein and his picture book every year. I never got tired of listening to him read to the class and sharing his stories. He inspired the kids to think like scientists. “
This year will be different. While my dad has not dropped by in quite some time, it was still easy to imagine him coming around the corner, a spring in his step. He was forever a teacher, at home in the classroom. Passing that legacy on to me was his greatest gift and I am forever grateful.
LIFE IS RANDOM LOVE IS NOTTM
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