I just found out that my favorite teacher, Mr. Bowman, died of a heart attack in June. I had the privilege of having Mr. Bowman for three years in high school- Freshman and Senior Honor’s English, and Sophomore Yearbook. Class with Mr. Bowman was always exciting and somewhat unpredictable. I know that some of my friends did not like him, but I don’t want to discuss Mr. Bowman’s faults here. No teacher is perfect, and now that I am a teacher, I hope that my students can be forgiving of my sometimes irritable moods.
Mr. Bowman was the kind of teacher who wanted to teach you about life as well as literature. He was so wise. When I found out I was pregnant towards the end of senior year, I was so scared. I knew I needed to talk to a “grown-up” about all the decisions I need to make: Should I get married? How am I going to go to college? How am I going to tell my parents, who raised me in a Christian home and thought I was the perfect daughter? Mr. Bowman was the grown-up I chose to talk to. He was so incredibly supportive and encouraging. I don’t remember exactly what advice he gave me, and I think that’s because he just listened and helped me see what my options were. His support meant so much to me that we kept in touch after graduation. We went out for breakfast several times, and then lost touch.
The longer I teach, the more I see Mr. Bowman in my teaching. I wish I could have told him what a huge influence he had on me. I’d like to share some of my favorite Mr. Bowman memories here:
Freshman year, we were supposed to read A Tale of Two Cities. Mr. Bowman had never read it before. He promised us at the beginning of the year that we would never read anything that had no value. Several chapters into A Tale of Two Cities, Mr. Bowman announced that he could see no value in that book. We were allowed to read any book we wanted and do a book report on it. I now make the same promise to my students.
The first week of school freshman year, Mr. Bowman warned us about all the things to look out for, like people trying to sell us elevator passes. He told us that the sophomores were the ones we needed to look out for.
If we were talking when we shouldn’t be, Mr. Bowman would say, “I hear voices, and I’m not Joan of Arc.”
When the teachers were given photo id’s to wear, Mr. Bowman wore his on his butt.
If a narc came to class and asked to see one of us, we would play Spartacus- everyone in the class would stand up, pretending to be that person.
Mr. Bowman believed strongly in cultural literacy. He took us to the Art Institute even though it had nothing to do with whatever we were reading.
We spent FOREVER reading Wuthering Heights because Mr. Bowman claimed that any essay question on the AP test could be answered using that book. Of course, when it came time to take the test, I froze, and the only book I could think of that related to the question was The Secret Garden, which I was currently reading.
Mr. Bowman said that if a friend asks you for a favor, you should always say yes without hesitation. A true friend won’t say, “It depends,” or wait to hear the favor before they commit to it.
If you contributed something meaningful to class discussion, Mr. Bowman had the best prizes- pencil sharpeners in the shape of noses, crime scene tape, etc.
Mr. Bowman LOVED Shakespeare. He had a bust of Shakespeare that he used to dress in different hats.
We read Kafka’s The Metamorphosis senior year. It became a huge class debate whether or not the guy had actually turned into a bug. If we thought he was a bug, we got plastic bugs. The opposing view got stickers of some sort. Our names were all written on the board under our opinion. If at any time we changed our mind, we could go up to the board and move our name.
Mr. Bowman never made us ask to go to the washroom because he thought it was demeaning. We just brought him the pass and he signed it.
Mr. Bowman’s class was “best practice” teaching. We wrote almost every day and had one-on-one conferences with him. There was always classical music playing softly.
My favorite assignment was when we got to bring in books that were meaningful to us and do show-and-tell. I brought in Less Than Zero, a book about someone struggling with drug addiction. Mr. Bowman was okay with this.
Mr. Bowman loved Mr. Bean.
Okay, this is ridiculously long and I need to stop now. I just kept remembering more and more awesome things about him. Even though he could be tough at times (he actually kicked me out of class once!), Mr. Bowman was the best teacher I’ve ever had. I learned so much about writing, literature, and life from him. I’m so thankful that he was a part of my life.
Mr. Bowman was the kind of teacher who wanted to teach you about life as well as literature. He was so wise. When I found out I was pregnant towards the end of senior year, I was so scared. I knew I needed to talk to a “grown-up” about all the decisions I need to make: Should I get married? How am I going to go to college? How am I going to tell my parents, who raised me in a Christian home and thought I was the perfect daughter? Mr. Bowman was the grown-up I chose to talk to. He was so incredibly supportive and encouraging. I don’t remember exactly what advice he gave me, and I think that’s because he just listened and helped me see what my options were. His support meant so much to me that we kept in touch after graduation. We went out for breakfast several times, and then lost touch.
The longer I teach, the more I see Mr. Bowman in my teaching. I wish I could have told him what a huge influence he had on me. I’d like to share some of my favorite Mr. Bowman memories here:
Freshman year, we were supposed to read A Tale of Two Cities. Mr. Bowman had never read it before. He promised us at the beginning of the year that we would never read anything that had no value. Several chapters into A Tale of Two Cities, Mr. Bowman announced that he could see no value in that book. We were allowed to read any book we wanted and do a book report on it. I now make the same promise to my students.
The first week of school freshman year, Mr. Bowman warned us about all the things to look out for, like people trying to sell us elevator passes. He told us that the sophomores were the ones we needed to look out for.
If we were talking when we shouldn’t be, Mr. Bowman would say, “I hear voices, and I’m not Joan of Arc.”
When the teachers were given photo id’s to wear, Mr. Bowman wore his on his butt.
If a narc came to class and asked to see one of us, we would play Spartacus- everyone in the class would stand up, pretending to be that person.
Mr. Bowman believed strongly in cultural literacy. He took us to the Art Institute even though it had nothing to do with whatever we were reading.
We spent FOREVER reading Wuthering Heights because Mr. Bowman claimed that any essay question on the AP test could be answered using that book. Of course, when it came time to take the test, I froze, and the only book I could think of that related to the question was The Secret Garden, which I was currently reading.
Mr. Bowman said that if a friend asks you for a favor, you should always say yes without hesitation. A true friend won’t say, “It depends,” or wait to hear the favor before they commit to it.
If you contributed something meaningful to class discussion, Mr. Bowman had the best prizes- pencil sharpeners in the shape of noses, crime scene tape, etc.
Mr. Bowman LOVED Shakespeare. He had a bust of Shakespeare that he used to dress in different hats.
We read Kafka’s The Metamorphosis senior year. It became a huge class debate whether or not the guy had actually turned into a bug. If we thought he was a bug, we got plastic bugs. The opposing view got stickers of some sort. Our names were all written on the board under our opinion. If at any time we changed our mind, we could go up to the board and move our name.
Mr. Bowman never made us ask to go to the washroom because he thought it was demeaning. We just brought him the pass and he signed it.
Mr. Bowman’s class was “best practice” teaching. We wrote almost every day and had one-on-one conferences with him. There was always classical music playing softly.
My favorite assignment was when we got to bring in books that were meaningful to us and do show-and-tell. I brought in Less Than Zero, a book about someone struggling with drug addiction. Mr. Bowman was okay with this.
Mr. Bowman loved Mr. Bean.
Okay, this is ridiculously long and I need to stop now. I just kept remembering more and more awesome things about him. Even though he could be tough at times (he actually kicked me out of class once!), Mr. Bowman was the best teacher I’ve ever had. I learned so much about writing, literature, and life from him. I’m so thankful that he was a part of my life.
Comments
I totally forgot to mention him in my message to you last night. But I really appreciate you telling me the sad news and this post helped me re-live some fun memories. He taught me so much and I love that he took us to the art museum.