Aren’t Teachers Amazing?

Aren’t teachers amazing? A little girl lost her father at four years old. Her father’s name was Robert. She always wondered what life might have been had she not lost him. Still, she knew he was an avid reader and writer. So was her school teacher mother, later a school principal. So she loved reading.

In her teens, when other kids paid a quarter for the bus, which is how they did it in those days, she just saved her quarters and walked to school. Over time, she used those quarters to buy books.

In her late teens, as her mother had done, she went to college to become a teacher herself. She was not taught to coddle, excuse, or misuse; she respected her students’ parents, but in her laughing, loving way, became a second mom to countless kids. She taught remedial reading for 40 years in Maine.

She more or less raised her four kids by herself, aided by a teacher mom, the one who was a principal. Together, they got her kids to read, got them to love reading, and crossword puzzles, long walks, the world of wonder, and somehow – despite life’s downdrafts – how to laugh.

One of her kids was slow, not eager to read. It came too slowly to that boy, but in time he got it, loved it too. This is how her life was defined, by teaching – put differently, getting others to love learning.

Years passed. Hundreds of children in Maine learned to love reading because of her. She opened a door into practical things, plus meadows filled with sun, lyrics and poems, novels and legends, history, mysteries, and wonder, fortifying them against fear, holding them dear, brought things near.

For decades, well into her 80s, those students of hers would return, knock on her door, come to thank her for changing their lives, for caring enough to lean in, pick them up, remind them to laugh, teach them to think bigger, and whatever their misfortunes, wounds, and needs, teach them to read.

In her mid-80s, the old teacher, whose mother had gone on to be with her father, would openly wonder herself – about the father she lost so young, about the influence he might have had, and then remember how others filled that void, leaned in to help her, planted seeds, and helped her to read.  

And then one day, the call came, as she knew it would, to meet him again, answer all the questions left unanswered, let him know, if he did not already, how she had leaned in, read with glee, and taught others to do as he did, reading and writing, laughing and loving with ease.

Since the day she left, not so long ago, I have pondered her legacy, that loving teacher, daughter of a loving teacher, whose daughters and sons are in education. The thought stirs because of her.

So, that little boy, who was not eager to read? Who would rather have played outside, and to whom the whole thing was a chore? That eventual reader, who did not want to be? That was me. And I am named for the father she did not meet again for 80 years, as she was my mother. She taught four kids grit, how to think, and the joy of reading, the fun of writing, how to keep learning, teaching, and giving, why to spend time at windows, wondering, just quietly gazing. Aren’t teachers amazing?

Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, Maine attorney, ten-year naval intelligence officer (USNR), and 25-year businessman. He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (North Country Press, 2018), and “Cherish America: Stories of Courage, Character, and Kindness” (Tower Publishing, 2024). He is the National Spokesman for AMAC. Today, he is running to be Maine’s next Governor (please visit BobbyforMaine.com to learn more)!