~Thyme to Go Home, On the Road to Somewhere, Yoder Days, Part 2 of 10~
~Thyme to Go Home, On the Road to Somewhere, Yoder Days~
I Was a Teacher, Part 2 of 10
I was in the 3rd grade when my family moved from our farm in the sandhill country of Harvey County, Kansas to a new community that was about a 30 minute drive away to the southwest. I remember what my father said that winter morning as we all piled into the car to see our new home just outside of Haven.
Haven and Yoder are two small communities that neighbor one another in Reno County, Kansas. My folks had chosen to build a restaurant and service station on the outskirts of Haven. There was a parcel of land they were interested in buying on the south end of town along old Highway 96 that would make the perfect spot for that kind of business. Once the land came up for sale, they quickly made an offer that was agreeable to the sellers. It would be two more years before construction would begin and an additional two years before they would actually be able to open the doors to customers. In the meantime, we would be living in a small rented farmhouse just north of Haven while we waited for everything to be completed.
Yoder, only 7 miles west along the highway from Haven, is a predominantly Old Order Amish community, a faith that adheres to some very simple principles of living. Homes run without electricity and modern technology, horses/buggies and tractors are the mode of transportation, and its members dress in plain clothing with the women covering their hair with white coverings. Married men wear beards with the hair above the lip always clean shaven and pants with suspenders and plain colored shirts. I grew up knowing the Amish and often found myself listening for the clip clop, clip clop sound of a horse drawn buggy coming down the blacktop road. After the restaurant opened up, we became acquainted with even more Amish folk. Several of them sold milk, eggs, or cream and those items were needed for many of the recipes my mom made at the restaurant. Scott's Cafe was one of the best customers you could have on your client list. I recall that we bought Amish eggs 24 dozen at a time. I loved being raised up in that part of the state. Living among the Amish gave me lessons in diversity at a very young age and I would carry those lessons with me throughout the rest of my life.
My mom was having some health issues during my junior year of college and would need to have some surgery during the spring of 1976. My dad was a bit worried about how the restaurant would fare and I knew that he really needed me to come back home from Bethel College in nearby North Newton, Kansas and help out while she was sick. Because I didn't want to lose any of my college hours, I worked out a way to do my student teaching one year earlier than is normal for those who wish to become teachers. I needed to find a place close enough to Haven where I could fulfill all the requirements set out before me by the college and still be a help to my family.
Yoder Grade School was a perfect fit.
I student taught in a combination K-2 classroom during that spring of 1976. My mentor and cooperating teacher for those 5 months was a sweet woman named Freda Ross. We had much in common and the most noticeable of those similarities was that Freda and I were exactly the same height. She always said, "Peggy and I see eye to eye on everything!" Nearly everyone in class was Amish with only a handful of children who were non-Amish. For the entire semester, I spent every single school day learning the fine art of teaching phonics, reading, math, science, and social studies to a class of 5, 6, and 7-year old students whose first language was Pennsylvania Dutch. The experience was so wonderful and the knowledge I gained as a person so valuable, that when the opportunity came up for me to transfer to Yoder Grade School in my 5th year of teaching for USD 312 of Haven, I gladly did so.
From 1983-1998, I was the 1st and 2nd grade teacher in that place that had become so familiar to me. My classroom was a busy one and most years there were up 28 students at a time who called me their teacher. While I had mostly Old Order Amish students, there was also a sprinkling of "English" kids as well. Looking back now, those 15 years were ones of huge growth for me as a teacher. I had to learn how to balance my time between two different age groups and a huge variety of ability levels each and every school day. The practice of differentiation occurred early and often in my career. I can't even imagine the schedule that I must have devised for the groups and I'm not even sure how I got everything in, but I guess that I must have! Although I don't recall every single reading or math text that I ever used during the years at Yoder, I do remember the phonics. We used Modern Curriculum Press in totality for those 15 years. I used to say to the kids,
When I begin my manuscript this summer about what it was like to be a teacher, the days in Yoder will fill many of the pages. It was in Yoder that I ate my first "whoopie pie" when a child brought a homemade one for a birthday treat. My disdain for goat's milk was born on the evening that I tasted the most beautifully white ice cream at the last day of school supper and could only swallow the first bitter bite. When the Amish family who had brought it for the dessert table saw my face after sampling it, they told me not to feel badly. Sam and Faye reminded me that the love of goat's milk is an acquired taste. And it was at Yoder that I taught a young Amish boy named Calvin who had been diagnosed with leukemia before he was even 2 years old. The first order of business that I had on his first day of school that year was to convince him that it would be ok to remove his woolen stocking cap on that hot August morning in 1983. He was fearful that the other first and second graders might laugh at how his hair had fallen out after bouts of chemotherapy to rid his young body of the disease. When Calvin died in his teen years, my heart broke. Now that I sit back and reflect upon it all, my habit and love of teaching the lessons of life was born on the day that precious young child walked into my classroom.
The 1997-1998 school term was my final one as a teacher for USD 312. After more than 15 years of teaching the Old Order Amish children and 19 total years with the district, it was time to move on. Our family was buying a house in nearby Hutchinson and we were ready to make the change for our own two children who were still in elementary school. The experience at Yoder was one that few teachers get to have in their careers. I was the fortunate recipient of daily lessons on how to become a better teacher. The time spent upon God's mighty anvil there continued to shape and mold me into the teacher that I was meant to be.
If you wish to be a better person, and in my case an even better teacher, then time upon the anvil is a necessary thing. Sometimes it doesn't feel too good and it is that uncomfortableness of it all that exemplifies one truth.
Growth, a most necessary element of life, is taking place.
Yoder Grade School 1-2 graders
1986-1987 school year
The majority of my class of nearly 30 students could not be photographed for this picture. These are the children who were allowed to be. Calvin is the first student on the top row sitting alongside me. I will forever hold him in my heart.
I Was a Teacher, Part 2 of 10
I was in the 3rd grade when my family moved from our farm in the sandhill country of Harvey County, Kansas to a new community that was about a 30 minute drive away to the southwest. I remember what my father said that winter morning as we all piled into the car to see our new home just outside of Haven.
"You girls watch because you will probably see plenty of horses and buggies along the way there!"I was only 8 but I remember thinking that I had no idea what he was talking about. What did Daddy mean when he said that? Horses and buggies in 1963? We were soon to find out.
Haven and Yoder are two small communities that neighbor one another in Reno County, Kansas. My folks had chosen to build a restaurant and service station on the outskirts of Haven. There was a parcel of land they were interested in buying on the south end of town along old Highway 96 that would make the perfect spot for that kind of business. Once the land came up for sale, they quickly made an offer that was agreeable to the sellers. It would be two more years before construction would begin and an additional two years before they would actually be able to open the doors to customers. In the meantime, we would be living in a small rented farmhouse just north of Haven while we waited for everything to be completed.
Yoder, only 7 miles west along the highway from Haven, is a predominantly Old Order Amish community, a faith that adheres to some very simple principles of living. Homes run without electricity and modern technology, horses/buggies and tractors are the mode of transportation, and its members dress in plain clothing with the women covering their hair with white coverings. Married men wear beards with the hair above the lip always clean shaven and pants with suspenders and plain colored shirts. I grew up knowing the Amish and often found myself listening for the clip clop, clip clop sound of a horse drawn buggy coming down the blacktop road. After the restaurant opened up, we became acquainted with even more Amish folk. Several of them sold milk, eggs, or cream and those items were needed for many of the recipes my mom made at the restaurant. Scott's Cafe was one of the best customers you could have on your client list. I recall that we bought Amish eggs 24 dozen at a time. I loved being raised up in that part of the state. Living among the Amish gave me lessons in diversity at a very young age and I would carry those lessons with me throughout the rest of my life.
My mom was having some health issues during my junior year of college and would need to have some surgery during the spring of 1976. My dad was a bit worried about how the restaurant would fare and I knew that he really needed me to come back home from Bethel College in nearby North Newton, Kansas and help out while she was sick. Because I didn't want to lose any of my college hours, I worked out a way to do my student teaching one year earlier than is normal for those who wish to become teachers. I needed to find a place close enough to Haven where I could fulfill all the requirements set out before me by the college and still be a help to my family.
Yoder Grade School was a perfect fit.
I student taught in a combination K-2 classroom during that spring of 1976. My mentor and cooperating teacher for those 5 months was a sweet woman named Freda Ross. We had much in common and the most noticeable of those similarities was that Freda and I were exactly the same height. She always said, "Peggy and I see eye to eye on everything!" Nearly everyone in class was Amish with only a handful of children who were non-Amish. For the entire semester, I spent every single school day learning the fine art of teaching phonics, reading, math, science, and social studies to a class of 5, 6, and 7-year old students whose first language was Pennsylvania Dutch. The experience was so wonderful and the knowledge I gained as a person so valuable, that when the opportunity came up for me to transfer to Yoder Grade School in my 5th year of teaching for USD 312 of Haven, I gladly did so.
From 1983-1998, I was the 1st and 2nd grade teacher in that place that had become so familiar to me. My classroom was a busy one and most years there were up 28 students at a time who called me their teacher. While I had mostly Old Order Amish students, there was also a sprinkling of "English" kids as well. Looking back now, those 15 years were ones of huge growth for me as a teacher. I had to learn how to balance my time between two different age groups and a huge variety of ability levels each and every school day. The practice of differentiation occurred early and often in my career. I can't even imagine the schedule that I must have devised for the groups and I'm not even sure how I got everything in, but I guess that I must have! Although I don't recall every single reading or math text that I ever used during the years at Yoder, I do remember the phonics. We used Modern Curriculum Press in totality for those 15 years. I used to say to the kids,
"First graders, get out your red phonics books. Second graders, have your blue ones ready to go next."I have no idea why I remember that but after all these many years, I still do.
When I begin my manuscript this summer about what it was like to be a teacher, the days in Yoder will fill many of the pages. It was in Yoder that I ate my first "whoopie pie" when a child brought a homemade one for a birthday treat. My disdain for goat's milk was born on the evening that I tasted the most beautifully white ice cream at the last day of school supper and could only swallow the first bitter bite. When the Amish family who had brought it for the dessert table saw my face after sampling it, they told me not to feel badly. Sam and Faye reminded me that the love of goat's milk is an acquired taste. And it was at Yoder that I taught a young Amish boy named Calvin who had been diagnosed with leukemia before he was even 2 years old. The first order of business that I had on his first day of school that year was to convince him that it would be ok to remove his woolen stocking cap on that hot August morning in 1983. He was fearful that the other first and second graders might laugh at how his hair had fallen out after bouts of chemotherapy to rid his young body of the disease. When Calvin died in his teen years, my heart broke. Now that I sit back and reflect upon it all, my habit and love of teaching the lessons of life was born on the day that precious young child walked into my classroom.
The 1997-1998 school term was my final one as a teacher for USD 312. After more than 15 years of teaching the Old Order Amish children and 19 total years with the district, it was time to move on. Our family was buying a house in nearby Hutchinson and we were ready to make the change for our own two children who were still in elementary school. The experience at Yoder was one that few teachers get to have in their careers. I was the fortunate recipient of daily lessons on how to become a better teacher. The time spent upon God's mighty anvil there continued to shape and mold me into the teacher that I was meant to be.
If you wish to be a better person, and in my case an even better teacher, then time upon the anvil is a necessary thing. Sometimes it doesn't feel too good and it is that uncomfortableness of it all that exemplifies one truth.
Growth, a most necessary element of life, is taking place.
Yoder Grade School 1-2 graders
1986-1987 school year
The majority of my class of nearly 30 students could not be photographed for this picture. These are the children who were allowed to be. Calvin is the first student on the top row sitting alongside me. I will forever hold him in my heart.
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