Turning the page beyond teaching

Ms. Jill Braverman English Teacher

Alibrarycard is a passport to worlds beyond your own. And I vividly remember getting mine at the Norwood Park branch of the Chicago Public Library when I was five years old. A weekly visitor, I loaded tote bags with adventures and mysteries. Had the library offered a summer reading program, I would have been that kid who’d race to read 100 books to get an eraser, a lousy bookmark, and a voucher for a Lou Malnati’s personal pizza.

It will come as no surprise then to learn that I also loved school at an early age. While many kids were dreading the end of summer, I was awaiting the “Back-to-School” ads in the Sunday edition of The Chicago Tribune. Nothing held more promise than a new Trapper Keeper notebook and a fresh box of 24 Crayola crayons.

Not only did I relish learning at school, but I also thrived being part of a community, and I appreciated the order and security of school, which offered a reprieve from a sometimes turbulent childhood.

Of course, the 1970s didn’t offer the distractions of today’s world. Without cable TV, computers, the internet, or cell phones, school was where we got our news, learned about the world, and connected with friends. There, we figuratively plugged in and got energized. We had nothing else to do but go to school.

Yet on some days, school was hard. I’d stand at the chalkboard struggling to solve a long division problem near a teacher who believed shouting louder was motivating. My classmates and I nervously stood up every Friday to get our new seats based on our test grades which were publicly announced. While I’d sit comfortably somewhere in the middle, I’d empathize with the students whose grades always placed them in the back row. What was school like for them? How could school improve for them?

Those questions lingered and guided me towards a career in English Education. Igniting enthusiasm for learning while offering compassion has been my goal for the last 34 years teaching at Maine South. Working with countless students, alongside inspiring colleagues, has truly been one of the greatest joys of my life.

Nothing compares to seeing the pride when a student masters a skill or learns a new concept. Feeling bleak about the future? Sit in on a Socratic seminar and listen to teenagers critically discuss the themes of a novel with insight and a sense of responsibility for their world and for each other. Help students discover that their words have power, and prepare to be persuaded, amused, consoled, and inspired by their voices.

The humble role I played in fostering those skills, in building that confidence, in creating a safe environment for students is why I became a teacher.

Yet on some days, teaching was hard.

I’d find 32 emails in my inbox with 30 minutes left in my free period. The photocopier would break. The ungraded essays piled up. A lesson flopped. I’d be muted.

On those hard days, I relied on the kindness of students and the humor of the English Department to reassure me and restore me to try again the next day. I hope that I did the same for them.

Teaching is a lot like life: the more you give to others, the more you receive. I am beyond grateful for my time at Maine South and all that it has given me. As I sit on the beach reading a book at the start of next school year, my heart will be full.