Entering English class for the first time was like being transported to another world. Bright colors, bizarre game show props, and our teacher Mrs. Jaquette made this room feel like a portal to some bizarre children’s show like zoom, or romper room.
Our teacher was unique in her own right, she was equal parts Willy Wonka and Madeline Kahn, with a fiery red hairdo that looked like she stole Heat Miser’s wig. She was a teacher who could appreciate a good joke, and wasn’t afraid to laugh along with her students. Her methods were quite unusual, but what we didn’t know, was that she knew the secrets to teach us anything she wanted, without us realizing that our minds were putty in her hands.
Looking at our list of necessary supplies, you would have thought this was an art class, not English. I can understand the need for pens and pencils, rulers and even a separate trapper keeper for her class only, but sharpies, crayons and magic markers in at least 16 different colors? What the hell were we getting into? We soon found out that all of the art supplies were for "The Shading Method", which was a really intricate way of coloring pictures that we drew, to make them look like stained glass paintings. This was the only thing that we learned that year, that I still do not fully comprehend why we were taught it. Maybe she was preparing us for a future event where aliens came down to earth and the only way to communicate would be through hand drawn stained glass colored pictures, or maybe she was just crazy.
The rest of her teaching methods were just as bizarre, but much more effective. She was a big fan of the reward system, and had many different trinkets, toys, school supplies, candy and gum that she would give out as prizes for winning her English themed games, such as tic tac toe, wheel of fortune, and many other game show variants. In 1983 things were a lot different, and political correctness was no where to be found. Nowadays, parents, teachers and coaches are concerned with making sure every kid is a winner and no ones feelings get hurt. But Mrs. Jaquette was like Jeff Probst from survivor, unflinchingly telling people they were eliminated, and awarding candy and prizes to the winning team to enjoy in class while the losers looked on and stayed inside their black sharpie lines as they cried away their troubles practicing the shading method.
Some days we were even subjected to individual challenges, and the winner would get the ultimate prize, the tree of goodies. This was a sheet of paper with a drawing of a tree on it, each branch held a coupon that could be traded in for candy, toys or supplies, whenever the winner wanted. This was a big deal to us as I’m sure you could imagine. Battle lines were drawn, friendships were lost, blood was spilled, all in the name of that loot…wait that was just us playing dungeons and dragons at the free library, either way it was a big deal.
One of the things that separate a good teacher from a great teacher is the ability to make students learn willfully and thoroughly, Mrs. Jaquette used one word to accomplish this, song. Everything she wanted us to learn she had a song for. She taught us grammar by making us sing the parts of speech blues everyday, we learned to count in foreign languages by singing it every day, we learned to say hello in hundreds of different languages, by singing it every day, and we even learned Rudolph the red nosed reindeer in Spanish, by (you guessed it) singing it EVERY SINGLE DAY. She was like the Mr. Miyagi of English teachers. She made us sing these songs over and over just like Daniel san had to wax on and wax off repeatedly. If our classroom had ever been invaded by a rival Dojo full of Spanish speaking autistic rain man ninja’s challenging us to a grammar and picture coloring war, we would have been well prepared.
As I mentioned earlier, in 1983 there was no political correctness, so I have to tell you one of my most memorable and funny Mrs. Jaquette moments, that happened on the first day of school. She was trying to learn all of our names and tell us about her expectations etc, and asked if anyone had any questions. An African American girl in the front of the class (whose name escapes me, which is pretty ironic) raises her hand and Mrs. Jaquette who again was trying to memorize our names, had a brain fart. Snapping her fingers at the young girl, she said "um um you um watchamanigger?"
Clearly embarrassed she tried to cover up her slip of the tongue, but the room was already in hysterics and after a few minutes it was just a fleeting memory. Our teacher may or may not have been a closet racist, but she had candy and prizes and that was good enough for us.
English class was also important for another reason later in the school year. As it was the scene of the shortest relationship ever in the history of mankind. On the way to English class, I asked Amy to be my girlfriend and go steady with me, she said yes and I was on cloud nine as we spent the next 50 minutes in class exchanging nervous smiles and puppy dog eyes. Trading notes back and forth at the risk of Mrs. Jaquette intercepting and reading it to the class. Nothing could stop us, we were in love and we were finally together, the world be damned, or so I thought. As the bell sounded ending class, Amy grabbed me as we exited the classroom; apparently things just weren’t working out after a whole 50 minutes and she thought it was best that we break up. I was devastated, and perplexed because at that moment I realized I would never understand Amy, or Jewish girls in general, but I still was not giving up on her, not yet.
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