Toronto Teachers College - Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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LITERARY CONTEST NUVEMBER 11, 1965 On the steps A shadow is cast, A shadow, a memory Of the past ---- On the hill A white cross stands, A cross, a mark Of troubled lands ---- Lighted lanterns down the river flow, Lighted lanterns, where did the people go? First came the bomb, then the heat, The people melted in defeat ---- Poppied wreaths placed in solemn row, Poppied wreaths, where did the soldiers go? First were the talks, then the war, Soldiers who breathe no more ---- Won't you please put down your gun And gird yourself with thought, my son? Think of a child, innocent and dear, Of a child's eyes distorted with fear, Ot trees, of valleys, of lakes blue, Ot the destruction only war can do, Of a smile, a handshake, a kiss, Of what war does to all of this .... SHARON O'NElLL FAIR

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We Stand on Guard for Thee - ADRIANNE CONWAY It is often remarkable how the simplest events and circumstances and people can be thrown together ac- cidentally to produce an indelible impression of worth! These ingredients were for me an occasion of thrilling pride in my country and of a desire to see every Can- adian as thoroughly a Canadian as this little Chinese girl of nine short years! A few weeks ago I went into a tiny grocery-shop to buy bread and other staple foods . . . Cfor even an adult student-teacher has to budget . . . and pass up the preferred delicacies of Danish pastries etc. for plain, good old-fashioned bread!! I had often noted before how neat and clean this little shop was kept by an equally neat and attractive little Chinese woman. But it was her to which I was really attracted. It seemed we both had something in common - for Linda it was the gayful discovery-age of a grade four child . . . but a chore as well to meet the work require- ments and sit still long enough in order to do so! For me, it was a year of chores and adiustments of another kind . . . yet, I too was living with a heart full of dis- coveries and joy while learning more and more each day how very little I really knew about teaching! We used to compare notes briefly but in a friendly man- ner. We had never needed an introduction from our very first meeting . . . it seemed, as it usually does with children, that such superficiality of convention is a pure waste of time. Now You See Him. Now You Don't. JOHN McCUI.LOUGH Before coming to Teachers' College I had decided, through working with different age groups, that on the completion of the college year I would like to teach a primary or senior grade. That was before my first week of practice teaching! From my very first day in the grade one class I had decided that it definitely wasn't for me. The teacher's comment that I seemed to have a good understanding of this age group, did not sway me in the least but caused me to wonder if she had inferred this, due to the similarity in mentality. By Wednesday I was a nervous wreck. I couldn't decide whether this was due to the fear I had of ac- cidentally stepping on one of the little creatures and crushing him to death, or the continual line of students saying, Sir, she hit me, Sir, he kicked me, Sir, will you tell Jimmy to stop pinching me? That night I made a resolution that no matter what happened the next day I would not let it bother me. Thursday arrived and I was assigned to take the read- ing groups - all four of them. Everything went fine until the Pussycats came up to read. They were along one side of a long table, myself being on the other side seated on those midget chairs, Cmidget booby 26 My chat with Linda over, and my purchases made and paid for, I began to leave the shop . . . when a very well-dressed and posh-looking lady tl thoughtl entered . . . She gave me the impression that she had arrived there through sheer accident and was con- descending to go ahead bravely, despite her mistake, in buying whatever she needed. l noticed that Linda seemed to have assessed the good lady in somewhat the same manner as I had . . . for she scooted out ahead of me, to play hop-scotch in front of their neat little store. Before I had left the area to cross the street, the lady came out. I noticed that she appeared to look down several miles of condescension, as she approached the little girl. Linda, who to all appearances, was not impressed and was deeply involved in a game of a more difficult kind of hop-scotch familiar only to Grade Four's . The lady broke in on her game with: Little girl . . . are you a Chinese or a Japanese or . . . WHAT? Without even the slightest accent, nor the slightest break in the rhythm of her hopping, the little one said: I am a Canadian. Under my breath I added: Good for you! The lady walked off toward her car . . . I went home with delightful pride in my new fel- low-Canadians, and Linda went right on hopping mer- rily . . . on her own Canadian sidewalk! Do you see what I mean when I said at the beginning that simplest events and people, added to simple circumstances can occasion a very interesting meal-for-thought. . . . and doesn't the wisdom of little ones always confound the so-called great ones ? traps! enioying, to no end, the story of Sandy , when Peter became confused between the two words walk and help . Being an understanding teacher, I realized how similar these words were and how easy it was to confuse them, and rising from my floor level chair I wrote a few words on the blackboard located directly behind me. Completing my display of phonics and pen- manship, I resumed my seat and proceeded to turn, on my chair, to point the words out and thus solve the student's problem. Finding that the words were a little to the side, I tilted my chair, so as to be able to point out the words. Peter began his oration, chalk, talk , CRASH! In a cloud of amazement and horror the teach- er and chair disappeared behind the reading table. Horror quickly turned to laughter and frivolity, while a usually pale placid face turned scarlet. Regaining my equilibrium I peeked over the table in embarrassment to see my teaching partner in the back corner leading the chorus of laughter, which by now had spread from pupil to pupil. As I resumed my position, I happened to glance at the little girl, whom the previous day I had chided for tilting her chair, and in her eyes I seemed to read our motto, We learn by doing.

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