Mrs. Tucker noticed that I was reading a lot during free time in class and started handing me books whenever she saw me getting towards the end of one. Most of those books were by Bradbury, Heinlein, and Asimov. Her generosity started me down a life-long path of reading and science-fiction discovery for which I am eternally grateful.
Roger Raphael. My violin teacher from 14 to 17. He was a great violinist and teacher of the instrument, but he was also someone who listened to the troubles of a teenage boy. And when he learned that I wasn’t doing well in German in school, he decided to help with that. I studied violin only in German for an entire year after that. When I had the vocabulary and the courage, I asked him about his fluent German and learned that he had been born in Berlin and that his parents had escaped Hitler, with the family, to Switzerland, and that they were instrumental in setting up an escape line for German musicians. All of this astounded me, and it taught me much more than just where to put my fingers on the violin. But the significance of it was driven home when the concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic came to give a masterclass (to the advanced students: not me!). He spoke no English and asked my teacher if he spoke German. Mr. Raphael apologized and said that he only spoke English. When I asked him about it later, he said that he would speak German to me but not to any Germans. The kindness of a man who would speak a language he hated so much just to help me in school has stayed with me for the rest of my life and is my benchmark for what a good teacher is willing to do to help students.
Mrs. Tucker noticed that I was reading a lot during free time in class and started handing me books whenever she saw me getting towards the end of one. Most of those books were by Bradbury, Heinlein, and Asimov. Her generosity started me down a life-long path of reading and science-fiction discovery for which I am eternally grateful.
Roger Raphael. My violin teacher from 14 to 17. He was a great violinist and teacher of the instrument, but he was also someone who listened to the troubles of a teenage boy. And when he learned that I wasn’t doing well in German in school, he decided to help with that. I studied violin only in German for an entire year after that. When I had the vocabulary and the courage, I asked him about his fluent German and learned that he had been born in Berlin and that his parents had escaped Hitler, with the family, to Switzerland, and that they were instrumental in setting up an escape line for German musicians. All of this astounded me, and it taught me much more than just where to put my fingers on the violin. But the significance of it was driven home when the concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic came to give a masterclass (to the advanced students: not me!). He spoke no English and asked my teacher if he spoke German. Mr. Raphael apologized and said that he only spoke English. When I asked him about it later, he said that he would speak German to me but not to any Germans. The kindness of a man who would speak a language he hated so much just to help me in school has stayed with me for the rest of my life and is my benchmark for what a good teacher is willing to do to help students.