My Turn: Anne Henderson, the teacher who inspired my own career

PS 63 in East New York was a dreary building. Few inspirational posters lined its hallways. Gray walls, stairwells and classroom doors gave little welcome to any visitor.

In 1968 I student taught for a few months under a young man who offered no encouragement to me or his classroom. We sat and listened to his lessons in boredom. I thought of changing my occupation but stayed with it as a promise to my dad. Thankfully, student teachers had assigned rotations, and I was lucky enough to meet the only teacher of color in the school. Her name was Anne Henderson. She was in Room 402, fourth grade, corner classroom.

The school turned from dull gray to vivid color the moment I opened her door. I was Dorothy in the Land of Oz. I had found my wizard. She was tall, wide-eyed, smart and had a keen sense of who was meant to be a teacher. Our mutual admiration was instantaneous. She taught me everything she knew about motivating kids to learn.

Her classroom was unique in that every child had a strong sense of self- worth. She pushed the positive and made everyone feel wonderful about themselves. When a child read a spelling word correctly, he was applauded. When a math problem was corrected on the board, a child would take a bow and smile. It was a wondrous atmosphere where everyone was capable of success. When the bell rang at 3 o’clock not one child rose from their seats to go home. They wanted more time with her. They carried her briefcase, coat and boots down the stairs, escorting her to her bus stop.

She made each child feel they could do anything they put their mind to, finding their hidden talents.

It didn’t take long for me to fall under her spell. I was transformed into someone who could achieve anything I set my mind to. I had the courage of my convictions and was ready to change early childhood education.

After graduation I got my first teaching job in Philadelphia. Whatever mishaps I got myself into were talked through in long-distance calls to Anne; we resolved every problem. I was, after all Mrs. Weinberger — who could top that? No one was smarter or better trained for classroom mishaps. I could stand up to any parent, child or principal with confidence. And I did.

Our close friendship lasted 50 years; we spoke about everything. Our only disagreements were over Clarence Thomas and Anita Hill and whether Barbara Walters was the best-dressed newswoman on TV.

I convinced her to toss the Twinkies, and she made me shop for a more expensive wardrobe. (A teacher was the ultimate professional and must dress the part.)

She warned that starting a family of my own was no easy task and assured me I’d be a great mom. If I had any problem, she was there to advise me.

After teaching in her classroom, she worked at her district office and eventually became a professor at St. John’s University. Then she retired, moving to live with relatives in Savannah, Georgia. Yet, the bond between us was never broken.

When she died March 20, I cried like I cried when I lost family. There would be no more Anne Henderson in my life.

She was the gift that kept on giving. I owe all that is positive in my life, every right decision to her. For me and countless others, at least 35 kids in a room for 30 years, we were lucky to have been under her spell. She was the Wizard of Oz whose magic made a superstar of everyone she met.

Phyllis Weinberger,
North Woodmere