Toronto Teachers College - Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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sEcoNo Pnize LITERARY coNrEsr WHAT IS A TEACHER? Between the innocence of infancy and the dignity of maturity, our children fall under the influence ofa group of people called teachers . Teachers come in assorted sizes, weights, and colours. They have various interests, hobbies, religions and beliefs, but they all share one creedzthat is to help each child reach the highest possible degree of personal development. A teacher is a composite. She must have the energy of a harnessed volcano, the efficiency of an adding machine, the memory of an elephant, the understanding of a psychiatrist, the wisdom of Solomon, the patience of a turtle trying to cross the freeway in rush hour traffic, the decisiveness of a general and the diplomacy of an ambassador. She must remember always that she teaches by word, but mostly by percept and example. A teacher may possess beauty, grace, or skill but most certainly she must possess a deep understanding and respect for each student individually as well as combined. She must cope with stubborness of a mule, the mysterious mind ofa woman, the spryness of a grasshopper, the curiosity ofa cat. She must also understand the boy who is at times inconsiderate, bothersome, an intruding bundle of noise, butat others had the energy of an atomic bomb, the imagination of Paul Bunyan, and the shyness ofa violet. ' lndeed, a teacher must bear with these distractions and remain cheerful, butat the some time firm in her resolution of making the younger generation into polite ladies and gentlemen. She must also manage during her five hours each day to teach manners and morals to youngsters, whose parents despair of their task during their nineteen hours. A teacher is Truth with chalk dust in her hair, beauty with an aching back, wisdom searching for bubble gum and the hope of the future with papers to grade. A teacher must possess many abilities. She must not mind explaining, for the tenth time, the simplicity of a mathematics problem, then explain it again to the boys who weren't listening. She must be able to iudge between encouraging and pushing a student. She must sense what decisions to make and which must be made by the student. Page 36

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Y, - - .-n- - 1-1 f ,- 2.., IN BEWILDERMENT 'Tis strange, How someone can feel so confused, Looking into the blue, And thoroughly hyphotised By the silent siloquet of the seagulls. Here lsit, Thinking ot what has happened, And whotwill, Trying to distinguish true lite trom fancy, Wanting only the best for myself, lA greedy instinct I supposel And, at the some time, Wanting the base things, Because they are what give me pleasure. Here lwalk, ln the moonlite cavern of darkness, Still pondering of past and future, The prattling pines cannot tell me what to do. So, here Iwrite, Helpless, but free. GAIL D. CHOPP, Form I2 Page 35

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She must be steadfast without being inflexible, sympathetic without being maudlin, loving without possessing. She must live in a second childhood with- out becoming naive to enjoy its great ioys, satisfac- tions, its genuine delights, while understanding its griefs, irritations, embarrassments, and harrassments. A teacher must, each year send about thirty students to another grade, proudly, lovingly, or sadly and await about thirty more with ready wit, under- standing, and eagerness. She must do this while worrying about how to pay the endless bills, what to have for supper, whether her lesson plans will meet the principal's requirements, and where to get the extra money for summer school. Ear all this, you will pay her more than the garbage man, but less than the grocery clerk, but less than the postman, more than the ditchdigger, but less than the truck driver. Yet, the most amazing thing about a teacher is: she wouldn't trade her job with anyone else in the world. She likes to teach. SHIRLEY McCALLUM. Form 25 ON PRESTIGE FOR TEACHING Who are we who studied daily, Studied nights when others slept? Nose to book, comprehending, memorizing - Reasoning: others like us vigil kept. This was in the past half-decade, Trying to pass our Grade Thirteen. Seven papers, eight papers, nine papers, One set of those was firmly foreseen. Looking back, and endless chain - The clock struck two, at last to bed. Time was of essence, lessons more so, We weighed the odds, we went ahead. Weddings can be made in Heaven! June meant more that year to us! Who are we who study daily, Study nights when other sleep? To comprehend our little charges - We study more 1 sow to reap. Page 37 Ourselves discovering New Mathematics, Phil., Science, English, others too. Those other subiects interspersing All make an intellectual stew. Teach a little, learn much more, Laugh when something funny's said. Masters, teachers, would-be-teachers, Prestige, fellow! Raise your head! H. INGMAN, Form Zi SUN Down came the horse from a green swollen hill Down came the rider, a girl who rode well lnto the forest and over the fray Down through the bushes, over logs andthe quay And neither had spent their tireless feet Through village, through thicket, our cobblestone street. And her fair hair would blaze as the sun caught it there. The horse had a name, Pale Phoebus , the mare. I saw all this on a soft Spring day When light takes over and turns dark into day When grass becomes silk, and believe if you would, Pale Phoebus coming over a wild verdant hood. B. NEWMAN, Form 29 .M ' 5 0 ll it Ei. fl m ,DSX F?-Q. f 'rf vi, 'Q sl' , f r- hir... i!' 'E' li Z l ' l l ALT' x 'TAX X fl I g 'l 3 Xi Q' A . i f l !! N !'lS'i.7.i X R '