Dream of teaching began in school
When I became a high school senior, we had to write a weekly essay. My English teacher, Starr Hacker, always scribbled an “A” on my compositions. Only the size of the “A” varied. I worked very hard in her class. She wrote in my yearbook: “Good luck to a very interesting student and personality.”
What made me interesting to her? I think that I was emerging as a writer, thanks to my teacher’s encouragement. It was her belief in me as a writer and person that made all of the difference in my life.
I decided that I wanted to give back to others just like Ms. Hacker did by becoming a teacher. When I told my father, he asked, “Why a teacher?”
I said, “I won’t be happy unless I’m a teacher.”
He asked, “Why do you have to be happy?”
I had no ready-made answer. I was simply floored with the possibility that my father, a master plumber, might not be happy with his work. He had fooled me.
My guidance counselor warned my father that I might not be college material because my math and science grades could be better. But I couldn’t wait to take English and education courses. I knew at least two people who believed in me: Ms. Hacker and my mom. Mom believed that I could do anything I set my mind to do. I graduated from a community college and transferred to a state four-year college. I met my true love, Marilyn, who kept me on track, and we both graduated with teaching degrees.
I had a satisfying and successful career for 33 years as a teacher. During and after my teaching years, I wrote essays for parents and teachers, and poems for children. It was never about making money. It was about corralling my experiences and making them useful.
My students encouraged me to create a poetry book for kids about life at school and home. Eventually, I published two books through Booklocker.com, Waiting to See the Principal and Picture Poetry on Parade!
When my mother was dying in a nursing home, I sat down and wrote a tribute about her life to capsulate what a great mom she was. It was my last gift for her, a gift of words. At her funeral, I read my tribute. To my amazement, the congregation stood up and clapped.
Without my mother’s unconditional love and Ms. Hacker as my high school teacher, there would have been no last gift. And I never would have become a children’s poet who happily performs poetry wherever he is invited in upstate New York.
Thank you, Mom and Ms. Hacker.
Joseph Sottile, or “Silly Sottile,” 65, lives in Gates with his wife, Marilyn. The grandfather of five, performs poetry for kids at libraries, schools and other venues. His Web site is www.consideration.org/sottile, and he blogs at http://poetryinsider.blogspot.com.
