I've had super compliments on diving, who I have become, 'close relations,' work ethic, etc. etc. They are nice, and warm me for a few moments, but I don't focus on them and just move on. Diving compliments from older divers who only primarily dive with their old friends are always nice, and newer divers trying something I'm doing because its working for me is an non-vocal type of compliment.
anyway... hey, I just noticed this is the Women's forum, lol... but I had a point to make, and it involves a woman, so I will continue:
Anyway, the most effective compliment I have ever seen (ooh boy, I can tell right now this is going to be a long write-up... but I'm home with some form of sinus problem so here goes...)
When I was a high school teacher I had a room with a door to the next teacher’s room. Mrs. M was an English teacher, in fact an honors English teacher for seniors and juniors, and was two years away from retirement.
Once in a blue moon I’d actually remember to grab her morning’s mail from the front office if I was up there early enough that I was sure she wouldn’t already be on her way.
So one morning I did just that – grabbed her mail as well as mine. Now the types of mail teachers get are pretty boring and pretty much all looks the same (either envelopes, a single colored piece of paper as a brochure with black ink, or a colorful catalog brochure). I didn’t have a habit of perusing through anyone’s mail – hell, I threw most of mine out each day without even looking at it… I always had enough inundating notifications via the intra-web e-mails and such, and only so much time to read it all.
But I digress…
There was a postcard in her mail that somehow caught my eye, so as I was walking back to the classrooms to get ready for the day I glanced at the picture. It was a picture of some part of an Ivy League university’s campus. I flipped it over and saw actual hand-writing (I guess another form of mail we teachers received was ‘postcard’ types of mail that were not personally written), so I was surprised. There were only about four sentences on the whole card, but I recognized the student and … well, I admit it, I read it while walking to my building.
When I get to my classroom, which is empty of students because it was still early, I laid my mail down and went through the swing door. Off in the far corner of her empty room sat this teacher, not at her desk but huddled at a group-work table. Something was wrong – she was sobbing and looked awfully depressed. I didn’t enter the room any further, I just stood at the doorway between out two rooms and asked her what was wrong.
Mrs. M told me that a student’s mother was all of a sudden hell-bent (my words, not hers) on dragging her through the administration’s mud due to claims of being a biased and lousy teacher. She went on to explain that, throughout the semester, the female student basically did very little, and that she tried to work with her, but the student just refused to hand in work – any work, let alone quality work that would earn her a decent grade in an honors class.
Now I knew that claims of her being a bad teacher just weren’t true – I was considered a pretty good teacher and she, in probably everyone’s opinion as well as my own, was heads and tails above me. I had taught beside her classroom for two years and, through just going over to see what was going on, or by asking her questions of approaches for the material I was teaching, I knew she both expected a good deal from her students, but also led and taught a good deal to get them to where they needed to be. I sort-of expected her to know this, too, and to realize that she was just dealing with the rare scumbag parent who we teachers occasionally encounter. But, of course, she took her work so seriously and to heart that this, coming from a student of one of her high-level classes, was really eating at her (I taught, at best, mid-level students… mostly I taught very low achievers, so I was somewhat used to the outlandish claims by the occasional drug / alcohol abusing - or just plain not right in the head - parents of some very good kids as well as some of our ‘not so stellar’ students).
Well, what is there to do in a situation like that? I’m standing at the doorway, feeling bad for her, and we’re both about to start a new day of teaching – so it didn’t help she’s enter into it feeling the way she was. But then I remembered the post card.
Standing in the doorway, still, I told her that I thought I had something for her, and I began to read aloud the four, or so, sentences on the back of the post card. It was from a student who had graduated the year prior and, to paraphrase, he went on to thank Mrs. M profusely for bringing him to the level at which he felt he could compete at the Ivy League academic level, then I read to her from whom it was from. I could see she was more stunned than fully cognizant of her true position in the school and importance as a quality teacher to her students, but I knew that the post card that ex-student sent couldn’t have shown up on a better day.
When I finished reading it, without pause, I walked over to her, placing the stack of ‘teacher mail’ on her desk as I passed it, but handing her that one post-card, then I walked out without another word.
---
I really can’t say I was ever really good at actually hand-writing Thank You and compliment letters, though I vaguely understood their power. I’ve got to admit that I’m probably still like that, despite my experiences, but I made it a point to get a hold of that college student, via his e-mail, and to explain to him the whole circumstance and effect his one thank-you post-card had. This kid, or guy, was on the right track to becoming a true gentleman, and I hoped to both kindly thank him and to reinforce the importance his few minutes of time had had on someone he valued deeply.
I’ve never seen another compliment that equaled it.
