Seasoned Educator

That’s what Mrs. Jackson was when she was my teacher in the first and second grades. I’m not sure how much seasoning she had, but she looked older than my Mom and Dad. They were in their thirties, and I thought she must be somewhere between them and my grandparents.

My third-grade teacher was about my parents’ age. Most of my teachers through grade school and junior high were in that range between my parents and their folks, at least until 7th-grade gym. That was the coach’s first year out of college. After the first quarter, he and my Dad had a conversation.

He gave me the first “D” I ever received on a grade card. It was the only grade below a “B” that I saw on any report. When my father saw it, he asked me a lot of questions. Was I always in class and dressed out? Did I follow instructions, and did I try my best?

I told him that my grade was low because I could not do as many sit-ups, pull-ups, push-ups, or run as fast as my classmates. The next morning, when he dropped me off at school, he parked and went inside to talk to the coach. Next quarter, my grade was a “B” for both quarters.

In high school, I continued to have seasoned teachers, and in my freshman year, I thought that our Spanish teacher had a little too much seasoning for my classmate Vern and I. We were in the Spanish III class as freshmen. Our class was the first to have had Spanish since fifth grade.

The administration said that we had the equivalent of the first two high school classes. She disagreed and told us that if we did not pass the first test, she would make us take the first class even if we had to wait until the following year. The scores on our first test were tied with two seniors. We all had 98%.

After that, we had no more trouble with our instructor. Another first-time teacher came along in my sophomore year. She taught my favorite subject, chemistry, and she was a hot, newly graduated blond female. Not at all seasoned in the least. She was an enjoyable, fresh face for this teenage boy. I found out that you can be seasoned at some things without being very old. One of my classmates asked if we had to heat glass tubing before we bent it. I thought that was a dumb question because of my experience.

Experience is the best teacher is a saying I’ve heard forever. My business experience proved to me that my education was a very useful thing. When I began to work in an office, I did not rely on secretaries to type purchase orders or sales documents for me; I could do that myself.

In college, my typing and shorthand from high school enabled me to take notes fast and type them as well. I still have those notes in my files for reference in my writing when I need them.

When I had the opportunity to become a sales service specialist, it was necessary to use algebraic equations to determine drive speeds, ratios, belt and chain lengths, as well as numerous other things like torque and horsepower required for machinery. When someone says they never use those skills, they probably haven’t thought about all the ways mathematics, reading, and writing have to be used in our technological world.

©Copyright 2026 by Charles Kensinger

Living in a dumpster

I have a granddaughter who can be very creative in her expressions. She isn’t the only one. All my children and grandchildren have developed expressive ways. Some are musical, artistic, or technically endowed. This young lady was having trouble with a school assignment and said that she would fail the class and end up living in a dumpster behind a convenience store.

Many of us have unfounded self-doubts.  I never had this problem while in school. My difficulty was in overestimating my abilities as far as schoolwork was concerned. Instructors and the way they grade subjectively confuse some students. Other teachers play games with testing, hoping to trick students.

I gave myself two assignments, which were in literature or other writing classes, to learn what they wanted. Math, science, and other more objective subjects were easier. The answers were correct or incorrect. Writing is not that way. Everyone has their opinion of what you say and how you say it.

My two self-imposed assignments for creative assignments like term papers or essays were to determine if the instructor wanted technically perfect work or more creative, idealistic projects. Sometimes I discovered that they wanted both. It took one or two grades to make this decision.

I appreciate your opinion; however, it will not change the way I express myself. Like my columns or not. That is your choice. My decision is to say what I want, not for your approval. Most of my motivation is from what Jehovah tells me. I don’t take polls to determine what to say.

I know some of you are also creative people. You may write, paint, or create other artistic works. Where we find our inspiration and ideas for what we produce is a question that those who want to do the same may have trouble with.

As I did for this column, my thoughts come from real life. I accept this as a way that God uses to inspire me. I do not believe that I am naturally creative. You may not agree with or like what I say. It does come from my head. I hope that you give credit for anything good I say to Him and not me.

There is a file on my computer with dozens of columns that I have started, and I add to from time to time. This piece began over a year ago. Many changes have been made during that time. I do not remember exactly where I wanted to go when I wrote the first words. Some day I may use this same phrase or some of the others she and the other grandkids use for another creation. Who knows if I can remember where those ideas came from?

I hope my future generations learn this from me. The conversation that sparked this column had several phrases that my wife read to me when our daughter explained the situation with her freshman. I hope that when she sees this piece and the fiction story that will come later, she will see how these simple ideas can become something more. Good ideas can be found all around us.

©Copyright 2025 by Charles Kensinger