Local opinion: Remembering my Legendary Teacher

This morning while I was attempting to rescue items in my shed that had been invaded by nesting pack rats, I came across a partially nibbled yellow folder. Upon closer inspection, I read the title “Biology Notebook” and in the one corner untouched by pack rat incisors in all caps “NIC CLEMENT 3RD HR”. The pack rats were more interested in the thick cover and although aged by my not so careful preservation efforts, the pages were readable. The notebook had color coded dividers, yellow was homework, blue labs, white quizzes, and red tests. Thumbing through, I got a 10 on my kingdom, phylum, class homework dated 10/14/68 and a “Need to redo” on the mushrooms and related fungi assignment. More important than my scores, discovering this notebook triggered great memories of my biology teacher, Mr. Davis. Mr. Davis was engaging, caring, patient and instilled in us his passion for science. Mr. Davis also had very demanding expectations and I received the “Need to redo” more often than I got a 10.

One of my strongest memories of Mr. Davis’s third hour ninth grade biology class was the dissection labs. Mr. Davis gave clear, detailed instructions, and modeled each dissection prior to giving us the black wax filled trays, silver pins, scalpels, tweezers and specimens. I distinctly remember the worm dissection and not because of the formaldehyde smell. Mr. Davis gave directions to slice shallow, taking care not to cut into the intestines. After one inch down, I sliced the worm in half with black goo oozing over the silver pins. During this do over moment, Mr. Davis did not yell, criticize or sarcastically tell me that I should give up my dream of being a surgeon. He calmly described and modeled a strategy for avoiding amputation. Hard to believe I cannot remember a grocery list of three items, but I can visualize Mr. Davis holding the scalpel like a pencil and at an angle.

Then there was Mr. Davis’s infamous leaf notebook. It was in the same storage box as the biology notebook and unfortunately is being repurposed as the foundation for the packrat’s nest. This was the project our siblings would warn us about being scary hard. They were right and I can still identify many trees without an app and need to be reminded when I am walking with friends that I am not the forest king.

These memories of Mr. Davis survived and thrived because every day, third hour, he grabbed our attention, captured our curiosity and inspired us to learn. He taught lessons steeped in relevance and rigor. He was an all hands-on-deck teacher before hands-on was a thing. Mr. Davis challenged us intellectually while making all of us feel we were the smartest student in the room.

Mr. Davis is a legendary teacher. Legendary because he instinctively brought the right balance of compassion, high-expectations, expert subject matter knowledge and positive energy to the classroom every day. Although I did not become a surgeon, Mr. Davis influenced me to become a teacher and I have strived to emulate him throughout my career.

As you read this story, I know it has triggered memories of your legendary teacher. Safer than cleaning out a shed. Teachers like Mr. Davis inspired me to develop Legendary Teacher Day. Simple yet powerful idea, on Sept. 28, take some time to reflect on your legendary teacher and if you can, contact them and tell your story how they made a difference in your life.

Although I have lost contact with Mr. Davis, I am sure he is smiling knowing that after 55 years, my biology notebook and leaf collection are supporting another generation of packrats.