~because I knew you~
Yesterday I went back in time to a place that was my school home for 15 years back in the early days of my teaching career. It was Yoder Heritage Day, an annual celebration for the predominantly Old Order Amish and General Conference Mennonite community of Yoder, Kansas. I had been invited to attend the All School Reunion at the elementary school there. From August of 1983 until May of 1998, I taught a combination classroom of 1st and 2nd graders at Yoder Grade School, one of several schools for Unified School District #312 of Haven, Kansas.
It was an experience that I never forgot about.
As a young college student searching out the perfect place to do my student teaching experience, Yoder seemed the best option for me at the time. I had grown up in Haven, only 7 miles away, and since I'd be living at home for the entire semester, it made perfect sense to me that Yoder Grade School would be my choice.
And so it was.
I was there during the second semester of the 1975-1976 school year. The opportunity to student teach in a community such as Yoder was truly the chance of a lifetime for me and one I never took for granted. All semester long I became immersed in the life of a community where for the most part time, as I knew it, had stood still. It was a place where many of my students lived in homes with no electricity or connection to the modern world of technology of the time, rode to church on Sunday morning with their parents via horse and buggy, and lived on farms where agriculture was the livelihood of the family. Little girls in my class came to school with beautiful long hair that was braided and pinned up under crisply pleated white coverings and dresses that were covered with aprons of solid colors of blue, green, red, or purple. Little boys hopped off the school bus wearing their solid color shirts and denim pants with suspenders and straw hats upon their heads. Year after year, I saw a new group of children enter my classroom with smiles on their faces and a "fire in their belly" for the knowledge of how to read, write, and do their math.
It was a wonderful time for me and when it ended after 15 years of service to the community and USD 312-Haven, there was sadness in realizing that it was time to move on.
Yesterday I walked those hallways once more. I stepped into my old classroom which is now the school's library. In particular, I was looking for the bay window that faced to the south. It was there that I always placed my geraniums from home, hoping to keep them alive during the winter. Every year the kids would watch them as their bright red blossoms periodically shot forth. I stood at that bay window yesterday and looked out over the school yard where children would play at recess. For a moment I thought about what it used to look like as the children enjoyed their noontime freedom. If I listened carefully enough, I could almost hear the sounds of their laughter and the shouts of their happy voices.
I stopped a moment in the lunchroom and peered into the kitchen. For 15 years my classroom was so close to the kitchen that I could smell lunch being prepared and hear the clanging of pots and pans. I remember that it was easy to be distracted by the smell of fresh bread being pulled from the oven or to recognize that distinct aroma of tater tot casserole emanating from the stove top. Children were fed quite well at Yoder by cooks who realized the value of serving home made food to the students each and every day. I miss that part of it all today.
The gym was empty but not really. In my remembrances, the kids were galloping around playing "horsey" with one student being the horse and the other being the driver. It's amazing what a kid could do with a jumprope and a scooter back then. Basketballs were bouncing as students dreamed of their time to join the school's 7th and 8th grade sports teams. The trophies that lined the hallways yesterday bore testament to the fact that the Yoder Tigers were extremely hard to beat! I sat on the gym's blue benches with Mike and told him all about it.
I looked through the pictures that had been saved for many, many years and was so thankful to find the ones that belonged to my classes. I have to admit that I don't remember all of their names but I definitely recognized each face as someone who called me "teacher" that year. Sadly I realize that a few of them have already passed away and in my mind they will always be frozen in time as the little people they once were. It's one of those "down moments" of being a teacher.
It breaks my heart to accept the fact that sometimes teachers outlive their students.
We stayed for a couple of hours before it was the time to head back home. It had been over 20 years since I had last been there, and I was filled with a mixture of emotions about doing so once again. I was nervous as I wondered if anyone would even remember me after all these years. I felt happy once I walked inside the doors and with a sigh of relief, I realized that people had not forgotten me. It was precious to see the looks on their faces as one by one they came to me and said,
So to the dear and wonderful folks of the Yoder community, especially those whose with students I have taught there, I give my heartfelt thanks for taking me in and allowing me the privilege of teaching your children. Very few educators have the chance of spending a portion of their career in a school setting such as I did all those many years.
One thing I will know to always be true is this.
My life was made better because I knew you.
I would not trade the experience there for anything.
It was an experience that I never forgot about.
As a young college student searching out the perfect place to do my student teaching experience, Yoder seemed the best option for me at the time. I had grown up in Haven, only 7 miles away, and since I'd be living at home for the entire semester, it made perfect sense to me that Yoder Grade School would be my choice.
And so it was.
I was there during the second semester of the 1975-1976 school year. The opportunity to student teach in a community such as Yoder was truly the chance of a lifetime for me and one I never took for granted. All semester long I became immersed in the life of a community where for the most part time, as I knew it, had stood still. It was a place where many of my students lived in homes with no electricity or connection to the modern world of technology of the time, rode to church on Sunday morning with their parents via horse and buggy, and lived on farms where agriculture was the livelihood of the family. Little girls in my class came to school with beautiful long hair that was braided and pinned up under crisply pleated white coverings and dresses that were covered with aprons of solid colors of blue, green, red, or purple. Little boys hopped off the school bus wearing their solid color shirts and denim pants with suspenders and straw hats upon their heads. Year after year, I saw a new group of children enter my classroom with smiles on their faces and a "fire in their belly" for the knowledge of how to read, write, and do their math.
It was a wonderful time for me and when it ended after 15 years of service to the community and USD 312-Haven, there was sadness in realizing that it was time to move on.
Yesterday I walked those hallways once more. I stepped into my old classroom which is now the school's library. In particular, I was looking for the bay window that faced to the south. It was there that I always placed my geraniums from home, hoping to keep them alive during the winter. Every year the kids would watch them as their bright red blossoms periodically shot forth. I stood at that bay window yesterday and looked out over the school yard where children would play at recess. For a moment I thought about what it used to look like as the children enjoyed their noontime freedom. If I listened carefully enough, I could almost hear the sounds of their laughter and the shouts of their happy voices.
I stopped a moment in the lunchroom and peered into the kitchen. For 15 years my classroom was so close to the kitchen that I could smell lunch being prepared and hear the clanging of pots and pans. I remember that it was easy to be distracted by the smell of fresh bread being pulled from the oven or to recognize that distinct aroma of tater tot casserole emanating from the stove top. Children were fed quite well at Yoder by cooks who realized the value of serving home made food to the students each and every day. I miss that part of it all today.
The gym was empty but not really. In my remembrances, the kids were galloping around playing "horsey" with one student being the horse and the other being the driver. It's amazing what a kid could do with a jumprope and a scooter back then. Basketballs were bouncing as students dreamed of their time to join the school's 7th and 8th grade sports teams. The trophies that lined the hallways yesterday bore testament to the fact that the Yoder Tigers were extremely hard to beat! I sat on the gym's blue benches with Mike and told him all about it.
I looked through the pictures that had been saved for many, many years and was so thankful to find the ones that belonged to my classes. I have to admit that I don't remember all of their names but I definitely recognized each face as someone who called me "teacher" that year. Sadly I realize that a few of them have already passed away and in my mind they will always be frozen in time as the little people they once were. It's one of those "down moments" of being a teacher.
It breaks my heart to accept the fact that sometimes teachers outlive their students.
We stayed for a couple of hours before it was the time to head back home. It had been over 20 years since I had last been there, and I was filled with a mixture of emotions about doing so once again. I was nervous as I wondered if anyone would even remember me after all these years. I felt happy once I walked inside the doors and with a sigh of relief, I realized that people had not forgotten me. It was precious to see the looks on their faces as one by one they came to me and said,
"Oh my goodness! Are you Peggy? Peggy Scott?"Huge smiles came across their faces and mine as one by one I told them,
"Yes. It's me!"And so it came to pass yesterday on the 7,775th day after leaving them all behind and moving on to a different school, that I did return. The chance to be with them all once again reaffirmed to me the knowledge of how my life was changed for the "good" by being a teacher there. During certain times of my career and by the way, being at Yoder was one of those times, there have been plenty of moments when I knew that God was laying me upon his mighty anvil and reshaping me as a person and an educator. The refinement process has been kind of painful at times as it can hurt to grow and change. After those time of reshaping, I have asked myself the question as to whether or not I really wanted to remain in education. Each time the answer was of course, "yes".
So to the dear and wonderful folks of the Yoder community, especially those whose with students I have taught there, I give my heartfelt thanks for taking me in and allowing me the privilege of teaching your children. Very few educators have the chance of spending a portion of their career in a school setting such as I did all those many years.
One thing I will know to always be true is this.
My life was made better because I knew you.
I would not trade the experience there for anything.
It was long ago and far, far away.
She was a young teacher who loved children with all of her heart.
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