Good teaching versus bad teaching (final thesis)

During my high school years I had two teachers that truly had an impact on me and my education. One of these teachers really stood out in a positive way because I considered him the greatest of all. He was very open minded and always tried to see a situation from his student’s perspective first, before making a decision or judgment call. He also seemed to try very hard to accommodate each of his students needs based on their level of mentality. He realized that we were all unique and that, when it came to learning, one method would not work for all students equally. So he would encourage us to try and discover what would make learning easier and more fun for us individually, and then he would listen to our suggestions and try to accommodate. Knowing what his students wanted out of him as a teacher,  was very important to him. We called him Herr Dahm, ( "Herr" is the German word for 'Mister').

I sometimes wished that I could find a way to contact Herr Dahm now and tell him, how much I appreciated him during my adolescent years, and how he helped me succeed in graduating high school with top grades. I am convinced, that I couldn’t have done it without his help and support.

I was known for always getting in trouble during my school years, because I had a bad habit of constantly drawing or doodling during class when I was expected to pay attention. I remember my Mother telling my teachers:” I swear my daughter was just born with a pencil in her hand, therefore I don’t know how to make her stop drawing.” You would find drawings in my composition and text books, and sometimes I would literally create a nice piece of artwork that only my classmates seemed to appreciate. During my elementary years, nobody had ever seemed to care. I had always brought home decent grades and done my schoolwork regularly, so this habit was never addressed or had been considered an issue. But in high school things were different.  As soon as I would pick up a pencil and start drawing, I would hear my name being called by the current teacher and then I would have to endure the same lecture I was receiving almost on a daily basis. Somehow, every teacher was convinced that, if I was not making eye contact with them while they were speaking, but instead was scribbling away on a piece of paper, that just meant that I was not listening or paying attention to my class, when in fact I was. In reality, keeping my hands busy helped me concentrate better and retain information easier. Just sitting in one manor and listening to my teachers talk, was never very effective for me. I would find my mind wandering, getting sidetracked by my own thoughts and loosing concentration quickly. It was very frustrating sometimes, because I would try so hard to pay attention to my teachers and focus on what they were saying, but to no avail. Soon, all I would hear was:” Blah blah blah…,” and words that were spoken just became mere nonsense to me. But if I picked up a pencil and started drawing, I would find myself more focused on what was being said, and less distracted by other random thoughts. Sometimes my drawings would even reflect the topic we were discussing in class, which was often the result of my subconscious depiction of what was being said. And so it was, that my teacher Herr Dahm, who taught English and History, observed me one day during history class, once again breaking the rules by going at it with my pencil and paper during one of his lectures about the oldest German city called“Trier”, as he was teaching us about some of the historical monuments and palaces and ruins,  and how Trier was originally build by the Romans.

                                                                     

I wasn’t aware that I was being watched, until I heard my teacher’s voice call:” Anja!”  Right away I dropped my pencil onto my paper and looked up. Herr Dahm asked me to please hand over my artwork. I was afraid of getting in trouble, but no sooner had I surrendered my drawing, then his expression changed from reprimanding to curious, almost amused. My drawing depicted of Roman Legionnaires invading a city, (my version of the old Trier), with all it’s historical buildings and artifacts we had just been discussing in class. Herr Dahm turned to me and asked: “Can you tell me what I was just talking about?” I recited everything we had learned that day, including the dates of when some of the important structures of the city were erected. Without another word, Herr Dahm handed me my art work back and asked me to sit back down. Nothing else was said that day.

The next day during English class, Herr Dahm walked up to my desk and handed me a plastic bag. “It’s a gift,” he said with a wink of an eye and a smirk on his face.  The contents were a set of very good quality drawing pencils, charcoal pencils and a drawing pad. Herr Dahm, who remained my English-and History teacher for most of my high school years, decided to let me draw during his class, even challenged me sometimes on my artwork versus his lectures. And I suspect, that he had a talk with some of my other teachers, for even they eventually eased up on me and let my habit slide. Herr Dahm was the only teacher though,  that ever saw or understood, how much more I was getting out of his class, just by allowing me to have that bit of freedom.  And I never let him down. I ended up proving to be one of his top students in class. And once in a while I would still find little gifts on my desk containing new art supplies, which lasted all through my high school years. But this is just my own personal experience I had with my teacher Herr Dahm. I never heard other students ever speak badly about him either, for he truly cared about all of his students and wanted them to succeed. If there was a way he could help students become more efficient learners, he would go that extra mile to make it happen. And that’s what a good teacher should be about.

On the other hand, the second teacher I cannot forget, was Herr Thiesgen, who was the complete opposite of Herr Dahm. Herr Thiesgen made my life in 7th grade a living nightmare. He was very prejudice, openly played favoritism amongst his students and terrorized the ones he didn't care for. Instead of focusing more on the lessons he was teaching,  Herr Thiesgen would find great pleasure in belittling his less favorite students, spending a great amount of time humiliating and berating them in front of the class. Up to this day I cannot comprehend, how he managed to teach young teenagers for as long as he did, before action was taken. Just the fact that most of the students were genuinely scared of him and that more than half of them were passing his classes with  low grades, should have raised eyebrows.   

Between my 6^th and 7^th grade, I had worked very hard all summer long, studying and preparing for an exam, which I had to take and pass with a high score, to be accepted into a more prestigious high school with a very reputable name of good standing. Attending this school meant so much to me, that I even sacrificed a family vacation to Austria and Italy, and instead remained with my grandparents and kept studying. A very hard decision to make for a 12-year old. But my effort was paid off, when I passed the exam with an overall score of 91% and received my acceptance call. But the joy I felt would only be short lived. This was the year I was placed in the classroom of Herr Thiesgen, who had earned nicknames like “The Nazi” and “Sergeant”.  Herr Thiesgen taught Math, PE-and Biology and one thing every kid knew about this teacher was, that he was highly judgmental about anyone’s appearance or physique. And he loved punishing students by making them carry out push up’s in front of class as he would shower them with horrible insults.

 This did not work in my favor, for as a child I was always slightly corpulent and not very athletic. I remember my first encounter with Herr Thiesgen. On my first day of school he asked me to come to the front of class and introduce myself, but after my introduction, before I had the chance to go sit back down at my desk, my teacher walked over and stood behind me, resting both of his hands on my shoulders, (holding me in place was more like it), and told the class:” This girl is the perfect example of why it is so important that we watch our diet.” Then he turned me around to face him and said to me:” Good god girl, if you were a cow on my brother’s farm, we’d slaughter you for all that meat. Now go sit down.” I was absolutely mortified. I heard some of the kids laugh, but I was much too embarrassed and too humiliated to make eye contact with anyone and see who they were. Back at my desk, I was holding back tears as best as I could, while I was still in disbelief of what had just happened.

And that is how it ended up being almost every day during his class. In math and biology Herr Thiesgen didn’t care if students  kept up or fell behind. Fat kids weren’t even allowed to address him or participate during his class unless they gave him 10 to 20 push up’s first. And if you couldn’t perform, you would have to sit with your back facing him so he wouldn’t have to see your “ugly pudgy face”. But during PE he was at his worst.  During this time I lost all self confidence I had. I was scared of going to school and my grades started reflecting that. I didn’t like my teacher at all and needed to get away from him in order to be successful, so I decided to transfer back to my old high school during 8^th grade. ”

Later I received news that Herr Thiesgen was arrested and charged for sexually molesting multiple students, including one of my friends and former classmate. But soon everything just got swept under the carpet to save the name of a school with a good reputation.

I was happy to be back with my old teachers and friends.  I finished high school in peace and at the top of my class. My experience with Herr Thiesgen had been a nightmare, but it also taught me a lot. I guess the grass really isn’t greener on the other side after all. I have no regrets. I look at all my life experiences as lessons, whether they’re good or bad. In this case who knows? Maybe I was lucky enough to escape a fate worse than what it ended up being. I’m glad I didn’t stick around to find out.