Impressed by my first teacher, Madame Pretureanu, I decided all I wanted to be when I grew up was a carbon copy of her. She was a medium build, rather skinny, middle age lady with very dark short hair and very red long nails. Her voice was that of a tobacco user, but warm and caring. She loved flowers and always had some fresh cut ones on her desk, mostly red; fragile tulips and voluptuous peony are what I remember best. With a no nonsense approach to everything she will encourage us to learn, will stir up our curiosity; she will start a story and ask us to find out the ending by reading it ourselves.
At that time, during my elementary school years, I knew I wanted to be just like her. Unfortunately, my dream of becoming a teacher only materialized for a few months when I was teaching Italian at an elementary school as part of my completing the requirements for getting a master degree in languages. I loved being around children and tried to get them interested in learning by awakening their curiosity. It was one of my most rewarding careers. I discovered how incredibly innovative children are, how their mind could make associations I have never thought about.
Let me share one of such experiences:
My lesson plan for the week was to enrich vocabulary by introducing colors, seasons, plants and flowers; repetition was the only way to teach at that level and I tried to make it less boring by dividing the class in groups. Each group represented one season, each season had its own plants and flowers; colors came along with ease. One smiling girl from the spring group pointed out that her name was Margareta and so, she belongs in the summer group, while her friend Rosa could replace her. I was impressed and happy with the suggestion so we formed a new group with flowers (all the girls) and one with plants (all boys). Most children got an assumed identity as a flower or as a plant and they liked it so much that they start calling each other Lilac or Sage, Lavender or Tulip rather than by their given names. It was so much fun. They wanted me to get a name, but I could not be a flower and make the plants children feel less important, so I decided I will be a tree; they all agreed and I was happy to be Miss. Birch.
All the time I spent with those elementary school children, I was thinking of my first teacher and tried to imagine how she would solve a disciplinary problem, how would she introduce a new concept? Miss. Pretureanu was always in my mind. I kept her as a role model in other aspects of my life as well; my hair has always been short and dark, my nails red. Her voice is still ringing in my ears especially when it comes to what children are:
“You should all want to be water springs; sometimes old leafs will block your path, but with some effort you will find your way, and I will always be here to help."
As a child, I was thinking and dreaming of myself more as a blond long haired fairy wishing for magic powers; I have never imagined myself as being a spring. I was a little surprised and confused by the idea, but I also trusted my teacher implicitly; I was sure she meant well.
Like most young girls, I was dreaming of having a magic and powerful wand that will make my family happier and less stressed about staying in long lines for food, wondering if the truck with bread will be coming that day at the street corner store. I wanted some bananas too and I would have loved to change my older brother’s personality and make him less stubborn and more sharing. I also wanted to use my imaginary wand and bring toys and candies to the children at the school so they could all have happy, smiling faces. If, in fact, I could have been something I really wanted...it was definitely not a spring.
