Please read the attached link. It’s about a very special English teacher at my Jr/High School. Some readers may know him, some not.
Like many Mounds Park Academy (St Paul, MN) alumni, I recited Chaucer for Mr. Meacock’s lit class. Crippled by stage-fright I stumbled poorly through. Some 20 years later I still remember the shame felt at not having the required passage memorized entirely.
To this day, I stink at remembering poems, names, jokes, etc. Punch lines? Forget it.
I wasn’t a theater or performing arts kid. I played sports but never excelled, playing for the sense of team and fitness. Debate was out of the question and honors classes were well out of reach. My niche: art. Every elective art class the school offered I took.
A pot I’d submitted to the school art show caught Mr. Meacock’s eye. With his praise came an affirmation of talent. To a gangly, awkward teenager struggling to fit in somewhere, it gave me a boost I remember yet.
That pot I later gifted to him. “Oh, not THE…” I still remember his comment and thanks.
Mr. Meacock was a source of inspiration to me as a fellow teacher. Did you readers know I used to teach grade school? Most know me as a nurse only.
With high expectations he engaged us in thoughtful discussion and reflection. My little brain, new to the academic expectations of a college-prep school, lit up.
I’m not saying I gave my students a taste of his dry sense of humor. Geez, I was clueless to it most of the time. High expectations and recognition of each child’s unique talents go a long way. He modeled those, something I observed and took with me.
Mr. Meacock is sick, I wish he and his family well. The show of support his Social Media outreach spawned is incredible. Thus, the linked article I share with you.