In the days of rural one-room schools - where she did her early teaching - a teacher did have to teach everything on the grade one to eight curriculum - with the aid of a text book and an answer key! Believing that they could teach anything undoubtedly gave them the confidence to face a dozen children of different ages, abilities and grades in one classroom, every day.
By the time I entered the teaching profession thirty years later, I knew for certain that I wasn't able to teach "everything"! In fact, the math curriculum had gone through a number of reforms, and now math text books were incomprehensible to me. And I would never have been able to teach sports.
But I do find it interesting that this past summer, both my brother and my son reminded me that I (the most unathletic person in my family) apparently took it upon myself to teach them both - at different times - how to hit a baseball! I did enjoy playing soft ball when I was young, but I would never have agreed to teach it. I do remember pitching to my son when he was about five years old, until he got the hang of it. But I don't remember pitching to my brother when he was a child.
And then, my brother said, the first time I managed to hit the ball, it hit you smack in the middle of the forehead! I'll never forget that! I felt so bad.
You'd think I'd remember that - but, in truth, I'd forgotten until he reminded me.
I have a few of those childhood memories that make me wince... times when I hurt someone accidentally, or lied to get out of trouble. But it amazes me that those guilty memories haunt us for so long. Why do we remember the awful things we did - when so many good memories fade from our minds?!
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