You’re All My Favourite

She died in 2010, but I think of her often, such as when I see a bird in the backyard or wander through a path in the forest – when I point out plants to my children, or they point them out to me. The impact of my Grade 2/3 teacher’s life goes on like ripples from a stone skipped across the water. I give her much of the credit for the childlike wonder I still have in appreciating the world around me, and my love of learning.

A safe place

Mrs. Lloyd’s classroom was a magical place, and children were excited to find out she’d be their teacher. She knew our stories and loved us all, recognizing our strengths and our challenges – and supporting us to be and do our best. I never heard her raise her voice, although occasionally she’d call out a stern “Now, Mandy” or another student’s name. I don’t recall a classmate being sent to the office, except if they forgot lunch and needed to be fed.

Examples of what made Mrs. Lloyd’s class so special include:

Kindness. She taught us to be kind to one another and, for the most part, we were.

Discovery areas. There were places to go if our work was done, or if we just needed a break: for example, a good-sized reading nook with numerous books for different tastes and abilities, plus a chair and table with a box of stamps for us to discover.

Efficiency. We all worked hard as she switched back and forth between the Grade 2 side and the Grade 3 side, sat working at her desk, or came beside us individually, to offer encouragement and guidance.

A feeling of belonging. From the time we entered the classroom in September until we left in June, we all felt like we were her favourite – and she was most definitely ours.

A secure place to learn. Looking back, I believe Mrs. Lloyd was a safe person who created a safe environment that fostered learning for all her students.

Recognizing needs

Mrs. Lloyd was an astute observer and problem solver, and I can easily call up examples of these skills:

• Long before school food programs were a thing, Mrs. Lloyd brought apples from a local tree fruit cooperative to the classroom to ‘sell’ – with many of us as recipients of that shiny red fruit to add nutrition to our very basic lunches (I don’t recall actually paying).

• The child who needed new shoes but whose family could not afford them got them quietly, without fanfare.

• If you came into the classroom not knowing how to read, she would ensure you learned before you left. It might have taken out-of-the-box thinking and extra time, but she adjusted to the needs of her students as they came up – and worked with us as individuals to reach our goals.

• Was there some barrier that made it difficult to come to a parent-teacher interview? Mrs. Lloyd might have visited you in your home.

• You wanted to play ball hockey at a time when only the boys did? Two of us girls would not have, but for her advocacy.

Mrs. Lloyd’s ability to recognize gaps and find solutions lives on in my life. Today, I consider myself an advocate, particularly in the sectors of education and health. Once I recognize a problem, I work to change things for others. This work started with Mrs. Lloyd modeling what advocacy was and, even though I did not have the words for it as a child, my commitment to advocacy was solidified in her classroom.

Getting to know each other

Mrs. Lloyd was a people person, with lots of friends in the school and the community. Beyond that, she taught us to really listen and to respect one another’s differences.

We are all unique and special, she showed us: no matter our background, all students were equal in her eyes – a powerful lesson in a time when that wasn’t necessarily the case in the outside world. The books she chose for the class reading nook reflected as much diversity as possible for the 1980s. We heard the stories of Glooscap and learned the art of making Ukrainian Easter eggs.

On the playground she taught us the game of marbles, setting us up in groups to play – then changing the groups as days went on, so we got to know all our classmates. It seems like such a small thing to do, but this approach allowed us to foster friendships that may not have even begun otherwise.

Mrs. Lloyd did not let others’ opinions influence her own. Instead, she got to know each of us as individuals, and inspired us to be the best we could be. I’m convinced that my ability to see situations from many different perspectives, and to get to know people without prejudice, came from observing my teacher from long ago.

Making learning fun

Mrs. Lloyd’s joy when sharing knowledge with us was ever present, filling the air in almost a tangible way. Some of my strongest memories today include:

–  When we went on class hikes she’d point out the teaberry plants and so much more. Her warnings against picking lady slippers and touching poison ivy (“leaves of three, let them be”) are not far from mind, these 40-odd years later.

–  During beach trips we learned about rock formations and how to search for the best pieces of agate or amethyst amidst the many other curious-looking rocks

–  An unexpected trip to the very first winery in the province taught us how wine was made: something you might think wouldn’t interest 7 and 8 year old children – and yet was super exciting

–  Sharing her interests with us, including stamp collecting and birdwatching – she’d point out birds’ colours and identify the sounds, some of which I still know today.

Importance of adapting

In so many ways, Mrs. Lloyd taught us the importance of being open to learning, and to be adaptable. These were skills she demonstrated when her own life changed: during retirement she continued to learn, and to bring others on the journey with her. For example, she spearheaded a community group to teach seniors how to use computers.

So here I am, over 40 years later. My own plans have changed many times: I wanted to be a teacher like Mrs Lloyd, and then a doctor, but ended up in science research, and then became a long-term stay-at-home parent. My plan to get back to work was a three-year one; then a five-year one, and eventually became even longer due to the needs of my family.

I am now slowly stepping into something new, primarily because of the experiences I have lived as a caregiver. Sometimes I hesitate, but then I recall a significant life change that happened to Mrs. Lloyd. She took it in stride, excited to take a different path in her journey, seeing it as a new beginning. She moved forward, was content in her situation, and continued to teach, learn, advocate, and encourage others.

Today, as I continue in the world of patient engagement in research, I will do the same – teach others about it, learn more, advocate for change, and encourage others to make a difference in their own ways. I can hear Mrs. Lloyd now, saying “Mandy, you are so smart. I am so proud of you.”

If you were one of the hundreds of students who was taught by Mrs. Lloyd, or had a teacher just like her, feel free to insert your name here ________, as I’m sure the type of encouragement that my long-ago teacher gave to me would also have been given to you. And – just so you know – you were your teacher’s favourite!