Remembering

Just about five years ago, I started my very first practicum experience.  I was placed in a grade 6 class at Lavallee School, under the watchful eye of Alan Bielaszka.  Even though I was only there for half a day a week, that practicum had a surprising influence on me.  

Al was a wonderful cooperating teacher.  He was always so positive and fun to be around.  I would often hang out in his room for at least half an hour after school, just chatting.  Other teachers would wander into his room, just for that end-of-the-day boost he would give.

Even though I was only a first year education student, Al even let me teach the kids a bit.  I distinctly remember trying to teach them how to perform mathematical operations on fractions.  I doubt I did a particularly good job, but he never said so.  He just let me try.  

The students were great.  In fact, I still keep in touch with a couple of them.  We got to form some pretty good relationships there.  I'd have to say that a lot of this was Al's "fault."  See, every recess, when other teachers hid away from the students to try to regain some sanity, Al went out with his class.  In the winter, they played football.  It was Mr. B and the girls (and Mo Mo - without argument the best receiver in the class) vs. me (or Miss Pirnie, another student teacher) and the boys.  Nearly the entire class played.  The score was kept running all week.  The girls+ almost always won.  They were better organized, and each of the boys wanted the limelight.  But what a good time.

The students never wondered if Mr. B cared about them.  Not really.  I mean, every grade 6 kid will at some point accuse the teacher of picking on them, or not liking them, or being unfair.  But these guys knew - when it came right down to it, Mr. B was on their side.  

And he did his best for them.  He wanted all of them to reach their potential, whatever that may be, and did what he could to help them succeed.

I think of Alan often.  Whenever I drive by Lavallee.  Whenever I see one of the students from that class.  When I'm lesson planning.  When I see teachers interacting with students above and beyond the "call of duty."  When I see them avoiding any additional interaction.

We kept in contact over the years.  A couple of years ago, I popped into Lavallee to say hi.  A lot had happened in his life since I had seen him.  He had gone through treatment for cancer.  He was divorced.  Life was different, but he was happy.  It was on the mend.

Shortly after, I found out that he was seeing someone, and then that they were married.  It was so good to see him so happy.  We continued to chat now and then on Facebook, just keeping up on life.

And then today, I saw something.  I had been invited to join the group "R.I.P. Mr. Bielaszka."  My heart jumped into my throat.  I searched his name and went to his profile.  And there they were.  The last words to a great man.  He passed away on October 6th.  Almost two months ago now.  I wish I had known, but there's nothing I can do about that.  

I miss him.  I missed him before, but I miss him more now that I know he's gone.  But I was given some wise words.  "Don't squander what he taught you, but use yourself as a vessel to teach others what was important for him in what he taught you."  I can't go back and thank him one last time for everything he taught me, but I can do what he meant for me to do.  Care about my students.  Do my best.  Teach them well.  And teach them to do the same.

Goodbye Alan.  You are truly missed.

History...Not Cleared

I sat down at my computer today and started typing in various sites in the address bar.  These were websites I had visited recently, and was surprised when they weren't automatically coming up.  "How odd," I thought. At first I wondered if Caleb had accidentally cleared the history when he was on, and then I remembered that Darryl had been on last night.  (For any of you who do not know, Darryl is, for lack of a better term, my boyfriend, and probably the biggest reason I haven't written anything here lately.  To be honest, my mind has been pretty preoccupied by thoughts of him.  Yes, "young" love...sigh...)  Did he clear it?  Why would he do that?  My mind was suddenly flooded with various reasons why he might clear the browsing history in my computer, some less savoury than others.  I had no real reason to think he was doing anything inappropriate, so why would these thoughts come to mind?

Now, I know that in today's society, we have been raised to be very cautious.  In my opinion, oftentimes overcautious.  However, I blame my thoughts more on history.  Just like, when I type "pc" into my browser, it automatically fills in the PC Financial address, or plug in "mb" and Manitoba Cycling comes up, there are things that trigger my own relationship "browsing history."  I came out of a relationship that lacked trust.  More often than not, it was for good reason.  And now, when a similar situation came up that had been an issue in this past relationship, the same doubts and emotions came rushing back.

If something I'm typing in my web browser is consistently bringing up a site that I don't want to go to, possibly ever again, there is a simple solution.  Clear history.  Poof.  It's gone.  Oh sure, there are often ways that those techie geeks can get stuff like that back, but not me.  Nothing will bring that website up again unless I go there deliberately.  Problem solved.

But there's no "Clear History" button for real life.  I can't just erase the existence of past relationships, or the lasting emotional results.  Oh, how nice it would be sometimes to get rid of the emotional baggage that accompanies those failed relationships.  To not have to drag it into the new one and have it leave yet another attempt in shambles.  To be able to truly start fresh, not jaded.

But then I would also erase the things that I learned from each one.  I also would erase the good things, and quite frankly, that would suck.  Particularly badly for my current situation.  You see, Darryl and I dated way back in 1996.  He treated me like gold then, just as he does now.  But if I "cleared my history" that would be gone, too.  The knowledge of this amazing man - who he was then and how, essentially, it hasn't changed to this day.  I wouldn't have that history to draw on.

So what did I do about the computer?  What any rational person should do.  I simply texted him and asked if he had done it.  "Yes. Sorry. Habit." was his simple response.  I know I can trust his response.  How?  History.  So you know what?  I'll leave my history uncleared, thank you.