If we’re lucky, we’re blessed with the privilege of sitting in at least one classroom during our formative years when a teacher stirs something deep inside us that makes us feel utterly awake, alive and connected to the world.
For the students of North Hills Middle School, it is history teacher Joe Welch, 37, who has just been nominated for National Teacher of the Year.
For me, it was my middle school English teacher Andi Kimmons who nurtured a love of writing and storytelling that I didn’t have before walking through the late Gothic Revival-style doors of Shoemaker Junior High in West Philly.
Ms. Kimmons, like Ms. Watkins, another influential teacher I had in elementary school, was particularly skilled at connecting the lesson of the day to whatever was happening in the wider world at the time. It was the early ‘70s, so a lot was happening all the time.
One day, Ms. Kimmons began class by talking about an anti-war protest she either witnessed or participated in. She was passionate about whatever happened and I vaguely remember her wiping away tears as she talked about it. She was a human being first and a teacher second.
Usually after the more traditional part of class lessons were over, she got to the heart of every class as far as I was concerned: encouraging us to read along as she acted out sections from some classic novel. Sometimes she would play music on a portable record player to heighten the mood.
It was like “Hamilton” every day in that class. By the time the year was over, we knew the songs from “Oliver” by heart, whether we wanted to or not.
Ms. Kimmons also had us read aloud or listen to her read huge chunks of “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” (minus the ’n-word’ she reminded me when I sought her out many years ago), “Charlotte’s Web” and S.E. Hinton’s “The Outsiders.”
Since I was the best reader in class, I got to act out a lot of Ponyboy’s dialogue from “The Outsiders.” I had never heard of “greasers” before reading that book, but it taught a class that was predominantly Black to empathize with poor and working class white kids who seemed to be just as hassled by the cops and gangs as we were in our neighborhoods.
One day, Ms. Kimmons came to class eager to talk about a new television show on CBS called “All in the Family.” She insisted that we all watch it at least once even if we didn’t understand it.
Because of her recommendation, I watched it every Saturday night for years. It honed in me a deep appreciation for ironic humor and a healthy contempt for bigotry. I learned to laugh at Archie Bunker’s racism because of Ms. Kimmons who would sometimes recite a bit from the show. She was always wired to entertain and instruct.
Of course, everything that Ms. Kimmons taught us in seventh and eighth grade in the those days would subject her to loud protests and excoriation today. She would be fired within hours of the first report of her encouraging students to read Twain or watch a Norman Lear program without strict supervision.
Meanwhile, we were all reading at grade level and often exceeding it because we all loved that class. Ms. Kimmons, who was one of the most imaginative teachers who ever taught in Philly public schools, was constantly challenging us to open our eyes, ears and minds. We were either laughing, crying or listening intently in her class. I remember tears running down my face as she read the final chapter of “Charlotte’s Web” out loud in the voice of one of the characters. It was a tour de force.
By contrast, I don’t remember anything I learned from history class at that time. The teacher stuck to a traditional curriculum and relied heavily on old textbooks. He made no attempt to tie the events happening all around us to the dull passages in the phone book size textbook he had us read. It was sheer torture.
That’s why I’ve been so impressed by Joe Welch’s ability to captivate his students in recent years. If Mr. Welch wins the most prestigious accolade that can be bestowed on a teacher — National Teacher of the Year, he will be the first teacher from Pennsylvania to score that honor.
I don’t know Mr. Welch. I’ve never met or interviewed him, but I’ve read about him for years. Every year for the last half decade or so, he seemed to be on the receiving end of some major national or state honor for having figured out how to keep his students engaged and excited about American history.
Similar to what Ms. Kimmons did in the ‘70s, Mr. Welch often has his students act out dramas from American history and turns his class into a theater of historical interrogation. He also has them work their way through primary sources, while bringing an obvious sense of fun to each lesson. It is impossible to be bored in his class. It makes you wonder why more teachers in suburban and city schools aren’t adopting his methods.
Fortunately, Mr. Welch’s students, their parents and the school district’s administration love him. No one second-guesses him or tries to impose a more conventional straitjacket on his lesson plans. That’s because there’s no arguing with results — Mr. Welch’s students are smart, enjoy learning history and enjoy class even though they’re often encountering unpleasant episodes in our national history. These students are not crybabies and neither are their parents.
Even so, Mr. Welch is far more circumspect about his politics, whatever they are, than teachers in the ‘70s were. He’s no hippie liberal like my beloved Ms. Kimmons during the Vietnam war era. Mr. Welch is buttoned down and wears a tie. He actively resists telling his students what to think and encourages them to come to their own conclusions based on research. He’s no ideologue, but he does encourage his students to have an honest dialogue with history and not to run from it. He’s teaching them to be braver than the adults who regularly regurgitate paranoia and conspiracy theories at school board meetings.
Every time I’m tempted to despair of the intellectually dishonest debates swirling around public schools and what’s taught these days, I remember that there are lots of teachers like Joe Welch are out there quietly daring to educate kids about this country’s complicated history in a way that is respectful to everyone, yet honest.
As long as there’s room in the schools for teachers like them for another generation or two, maybe our democracy has a better chance at surviving our polarized times than we assume.
Tony Norman: tnorman@post-gazette.com or 412-263-1631. Twitter @Tony_NormanPG.
First Published: February 21, 2022, 10:42 p.m.
