Teachers: The Most Influential People on Earth!

There are a few interesting people who have always amazed me. One of the fascinating people on Earth seems to be hypnotists. They seem to ask for volunteers, put them to sleep, and make them cluck like ducks and stuff. Magicians seem to perform "magic and stuff." Clowns, to some extent, can make some people laugh. I used to truly believe this until I reached high school. Then, it all fell apart because I saw things for what they truly were. Hypnotists used plants, people who were paid to get up on stage and fake it. Magicians had hidden devices like keys in order to escape their handcuffs and other stuff. Clowns were a bit closer to believable because they were able to make most children laugh, but eventually scared adults away.

Teachers must possess the ability to control the thinking ability of children, perform educational magic by showing children that they can do things they never knew they could do, and then entertain them as well. I should know. I am an expert in this area. I am a teacher.

In a child’s life, their first influence comes from their parents, but parents cannot be with them all the time. Who would be able to step up and step in the parents’ place? After all, parents are a child’s first teachers. They set the ground rules for a successful life. It is the parent who ingrains into a child’s life that the child MUST do better in life than they ever did. Again, I should know this very well. My parents gave me the same lesson. Even before I started Kindergarten, I knew that I had had a high expectation placed on me. Failure to do well was not going to be accepted as an excuse. This is when MY mission in life began.

Another influence I had was our neighbor, Mr. Ullyses Taylor. He was like the Oracle of Delphi to me. Whenever I had a college paper due, I'd take it to him and we would discuss it, and then I'd go back home to make my revisions to it.

Psychology has proved that when an animal is born, it instantly develops an immediate affection for the first thing that moves. In a bird’s lifespan, for example, the mother bird starts to care for her offspring. She will seek food, protect, and teach the little one all at the same time while caressing the baby. The newly born creature will stay with mamma bird constantly seeking protection and affection. This is called imprinting.

I began my journey in school began in September of 1961. It started literally in a little red schoolhouse on the campus of St. Catherine of Sienna School in St. Albans, New York. It was a nice place, but miniature. We looked like a house, which had shrunk in a dryer. It bore a sharp resemblance to those antique houses that I saw in my basic readers.

The school was staffed by the Dominican Sisters. So, my very first school teacher was a Sister. She was dressed in a habit and wore oversized rosary beads. She was a rather nice lady whose age I can’t seem to remember right now, but that is not important.

I remember two occasions when I got into trouble in that Kindergarten class. In my defense, I have to share my blame with my Dad. I was the firstborn. My siblings would not come along until some seven years later. So, there was a growing period for my parents and me. On this occasion, I had to deal with my first winter out of the house. Mom and Dad bought me winter clothes with one slight problem. I had pull over boots, but my parents bought them in the same shoe size. Instead of being able to pull a size seven boot over a size six shoe, I had a size six boot to pull over a size six shoe. Do the Math. Obviously, there would be a problem. The only problem I created was much more than the undersized boot. There was a time when Daddy used to cuss like a drunken sailor when things did not go well. Of course, his son, the human tape recorder picked up EVERY word. When he hit his thumb with a hammer while he was trying to drive a nail into a wall, I heard EVERY syllable.

I thought to myself, “Hmmm. Men say these words when things go wrong? Got it.”

The next day as we were getting ready for our dismissal, Sister walked around the classroom in order to make sure her little five-year-olds were properly dressed in order to be dismissed in that cold December air. There was just one BIG problem. Sister’s ears were burning. She heard a train of obscenities repeatedly coming out of one of those little mouths in her room.

Needless to say, Sister had both hands covering her mouth as she turned a lovely shade of pink. She almost fainted. What a huge achievement! I made Sister blush. It seems that little Kindergarten boys should not say anything. How was I to know? All I remember is how Sister had made the Sign of the Cross in order to chase the devil out of me. Yup, this tiny tyke came fully prepared with an extensive vocabulary for the school that day. I could not help it. All I knew is that those darnboots would not fit.

I also made my parents blush as well when they were called by the Principal to come inside the little red schoolhouse to pick me up. Grandma Bernier was nice enough to reprimand this little Catholic boy's rear end when he got home, too.

I managed to sail through first and second grade although I can remember crying my eyes out in second grade when President John Kennedy was assassinated. I did not really understand death, but I knew that it involved something very bad

In third grade, I had a teacher named Mrs. Dorothy Maggio and unlike the Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, this Dorothy meant business. I once tried to enlist in the Marines after high school, but this lady must have been a Marine drill instructor who got kicked out of Vietnam for being too rough on the Viet Cong. She was that tough. I don’t even recall seeing her smile. The lowest grade I ever remember on my report cards that year was nothing lower than a 90. I always made it to the honor roll not because she was easy on me, but because she was tough with me. All I could remember well that year is that my boots always fit. No cuss words for me or this lady probably would have barehanded me off every wall in her room.

In fourth grade, I had Sister Josepha. It was also the year that I got a baby sister named Janice. I loved my baby sister. I was now a big brother. A few days later, Sister Josepha offered a prayer for my family and me for our newest member. I had many great times with Sister Josepha.

For fifth grade, I had Mrs. Elanor Fryer. She was the top classroom teacher who I simply adored because she was well-respected and loved literally by everyone who knew or heard of her. She had a great Southern accent and was more like a surrogate Mom to me even when my own Mom was in a hospital for a while. She would give me a look when I misbehaved and offered to toss her little Beethoven statuette at my cranium if I kept talking in class. The mouth stayed shut and much learning took place that year. She was probably the most influential teacher I ever had.

My sixth-grade teacher, Sister Catherine Joseph, and I did not seem to care for each other, but she did foster a love for the English language in me. She NEVER called me by my first name. I was always MR. BERNIER. On some days, I did not know if she was addressing me or calling my Dad. She rode me like a California surfboard. One day, I got sick in school and stayed until dismissal. I was so afraid of telling her and getting yelled at for trying to go home early.

Seventh and eighth grade almost passed quietly until I got into a philosophical fight with my eighth-grade teacher. I wanted to eventually go to college, but she felt that I was more suited for a trade school/end of the road stop. I made sure that my paperwork for an academic high school was filled out properly with my parents’ signature wherever they had to sign just in case this teacher tried some nonsense with it.

Once I made it into Christ the King High School in Middle Village, also in New York, I met a few more very influential teachers-Brother Pat Murphy, Mr. Kebba, Mrs, Breiner, Mr. Chisena and Sister Evelyn Lamoreaux. The most influential high school teacher I had was Mr. Keeler. He introduced me to music and encouraged me to join the band. He really pushed me to practice and do much better. He told other teachers about me. Teachers kept mentioning about how nice I sounded on the trumpet. He even made arrangements for me to play with the local university band before I could even graduate from high school. Eventually, I was set up by my Uncle Conrad to have a private music teacher, a man named Richard Williams whose strong influence made me fall in love with my trumpet. I wanted to be so much like Mr. Williams. He was an EXCELLENT and well-respected trumpeter. He is still my hero.

Yes, these are the people who were my lasting influences. They had my attention like a hypnotist. Like an educational magician, they magically got new information into my skull and actually made learning enjoyable, but they were no clowns. It was this group that made me want to be a teacher, a profession that I had been a part of for 40 years, and, even though they are no longer with us, I personally want to thank them all for all they did for me. They sacrificed themselves for me and showed me what it takes to be a teacher. It was my turn to pay it forward and help the students given to me.

Thank You!!!!

P.S. I bought work boots for the winter weather. And there are no problems getting them on or off my feet. Sorry about that, Sister. :-)