(This blog was originally posted on Thursday, December 6, 2007 at a reader-generated site at The News Tribune, Tacoma, WA.)
Being in the middle-aged bracket, my attention wanders over to the obituaries section of the local newspaper more frequently than say when I was a youth. A few weeks ago, the death of the mother of a family known to my folk's from many years past was listed.
This last weekend I happened to notice an announcement that the wife of one of my high school teachers had passed away. As I graduated from high school in the early 70's, it has been some time since I've indulged myself in memories from that era when I answered to the first name of good old Jane.
Above: Front page of personal letter from former Kirkland teacher Jack Spencer.
However, as this particular high school teacher who has only recently lost his beloved wife of 63 years was a favorite, it's not difficult to remember being a student in one of Jack Spencer's classes at Lake Washington High School in Kirkland, WA. Prior to my becoming a student in his English class, I did not particularly enjoy writing. My handwriting was and still is terrible. Writing anything was extremely difficult for me until the seventh grade when I learned to type.
Even with a typewriter, I was still not overly fond of writing. Essays and book reports were difficult compounded by the fact I scarely could remember what I read. For years I had to read and re-read my texts before a test hoping and praying that somehow something could be recalled by my subconscious mind. If I disliked the subject it was worse. I would start to forget what I read as I read.
But when I got to Mr. Spencers class, he gave me more encouragement in this area than most any other teacher I had had by reading excerpts from my papers aloud. It wasn't just my papers, he read sections from student papers he liked to a captive audience on many occasions. He only read parts of mine a handful of times but that was just enough to give me the encouragement I needed.
Because of a learning disability, I was very uncomfortable about my academic performance as I was carrying a big secret. I was unable to be as consistent as I would have liked to be. More often than I was distracted and disorganized. My mind wandered off many times every day. There were times I couldn't get myself to do what I knew I had done before in order to get good marks. Today, this condition is known as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder or ADHD. Mine was the inattentive type. I could sit quietly in a chair. I didn't interupt the teacher or talk loudly in class. Outside I was quiet and well-behaved. Inside, the channels in my brain changed all the time.
I had no trouble staying focused for Art classes which were my all time favorites. Everything else was more of a challenge. The notice that Mr. Spencer gave me in his English class offered me a second area of possible expertise. It was like being nominated for an Academy Award. Emboldened by his notice, the next year of high school I decided to try my hand at writing for the school newspaper. Four years later I graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in journalism. I owe that confidence to Mr. Spencer.
Above: Back of early 80's letter to myself from Jack Spencer.
Over some thirty years since this positive encouragement has also resulted in my being able to write volunteer to write testimony and appear in front of a US Congressional panel during the Japanese-American communities effort in the 80's to obtain redress in regards to injustices related to World War II's internment camps, numerous letters to the Editor, contributing articles in newsletters and other media relation to roles as an appointed member of several civic commissions during the 90's in my area of residence, a winning Mother's Day essay in a local community paper and pieces posted this last year on this blog at The News Tribune.
In his late wife Shirley Jean's obituary, which I read in The Seattle Times on December 2, 2007, she is mentioned as a highly regarded student, swimmer and lifeguard from Kirkland who attended the University of Washington, worked at Eastside Chevrolet and building Boeing B-17's during World War II. Mr. Spencer on the other hand, is apparently the dashing young Aviation Naval Cadet who swept her off her feet.
The obituary recounts their eventual return to Tacoma, WA where he finished his schooling at The College of Puget Sound, which was followed by their return as a couple to Kirkland, WA with their three children in 1953. Mr. Spencer begins a twenty-plus year career teaching English and coaching basketball at LWHS.
Most likely, Mr. Spencer was far trimmer in those early years at the high school than the bespeckled middle-aged man who presided over my junior year classroom in the first part of the 70's who my equally fading memory is telling me bears a very slight resemblence to the cartoon strip character of Dilbert, Yet contrary to Dilbert, Spencer stands out in the long listing of teachers I had before and since because he had character as opposed to being one.
One of my vivid memories about Mr. Spencer was riding my bike by the school during one summer vacation and discovering him watering and otherwise tending a number of plants - rhododendrons I believe which he had brought from his yard years before and since replanted on the school grounds over the years to make the campus look more attractive. And during the hot and dry months of late summer it was the same dedication that called him back to campus to check up on his charges which is how I came to discover him on the grounds in the first place.
At my classes 10th year reunion, a classmate and I both discovered that we had hoped to see Mr. Spencer at the festivities. When he was not, I took the liberty of writing him a letter which he replied to in a very nice note of his own later that year.
In that very aforementioned letter dated October 18, 1983, Mr. Spencer wrote: "It makes me feel very happy to know that some people, very nice people I might add, remember me and some of the things I tried to do....You seem to remember quite a few things about me and that's gratifying because somehow I never got the feeling that I was having much influence on you - but I did think you had unbounded capabilities. I'm still gardening - the world has treated me very nicely. I have six lovely grandchildren and my lovely wife and I are in very good health."
He closed his two page missive with these remarks: "Thanks again for your very lovely letter. I'm admitting I have no excuse for being so late with this assignment, but if you write again I'll try harder. Sincerely J.J.S." I am taking the liberty to quote from Spencer's note today because upon re-reading it almost 26 years later I realized that I never took him up on a second note, and better late than never - I want to remedy that error by sharing with him for what I was able to take from his class - namely hope, which has stood me very well and fueled what persistence I've nurtured ever since to address those hurdles posed by the known and unknown handicaps.
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