MATH

July 30, 2011

  I told the teachers at school today that I needed to write a letter. I need to write a letter to a former teacher. I am sure that she would never imagine that her name would come up in India and that I would end up sharing from my heart the difference she made to me.. but...I did.. and I know that the impact she had on me has touched teachers half a world away. It’s been 22 years since she was my math teacher. She gave me a poster that year that still hangs in my childhood bedroom .. it reads .. "I would love math if it didn’t have so many numbers.. Keep trying - Love, Mrs. Mizzelle."

 I was never good in math. That year, I was moved to her math class. It was really a class higher than where I should have been. I knew that my “math anxiety" was already high.. and being in the advanced section only made it worse. I am not sure why she came to mind this week. It has been a while since I have thought about that year.

  I am guessing that it started on Wednesday. I was watching a third grade math class. I missed what had transpired before I entered and the conversation was in Telugu so I was not sure what was being said. However, standing among his peers, was a wide-eyed boy looking intently at his teacher. His eyes brimmed with tears and he wore a look of desperation. It was as if I could feel his small heart. I could identify with his angst....when the realization hits that you don’t know the answer. More than anything - you want to shrink from the room. Even as I watched - the elapsed time seemed endless. I had to make a conscious decision not to jump in, take his hand, and offer encouragement ( I meant to say something to him today but forgot… I hope someone will).

  In my daily half hour teacher sessions, I usually talk about a variety of  instructional methods that can be used with struggling learners. Thursday's topic was learning styles and and how individuals learn differently. If we vary the instructional modality, perhaps someone who could not understand...will be able

to comprehend. 

 Even though I had not planned it - I began telling about my own struggle to understand math. I told about the hours of tears at the kitchen table, struggling with computations and calculations. I also shared the wisdom of my teacher who knew that my fifth grade heart needed confidence even more than my brain needed math.

  I told the teachers yesterday and as I write this now it still brings tears to my eyes. Mrs. Mizzelle would tell me a day ahead of time, which problem I would need to solve on the board so that when I went before the class I could meet with success. She made sure that I never looked different or felt inadequate. I am not sure what will happen to my third class friend or whether he will ever really understand mathematics. 

  As I prepared to depart, one of the math teachers.. the quietest at the school said, “ I know now that it is my job to make all students successful and to give them encouragement.” How wonderful that the teachers were inspired by my teacher, a world away, who they will never meet. Thanks you Mrs. Mizzelle. Your impact on one (me) has impacted a school of many -  including one small, wide eyed, third grade boy.