excellence

This photo is from a local newspaper article from last year showing Don using his amplification system, which saves his voice and throat from having to project all the time. You know how it can be, talking above 26 3rd graders.

I want to congratulate my favorite teacher for winning a 'Commitment to Excellence' award granted to teachers in his school district.

These awards are given annually to honor educators who demonstrate commitment and innovation, and who embody the qualities of excellence. He will receive a significant cash gift to use as he wishes in his classroom. Feel free to offer suggestions for spending the money. (I'm thinking turtle ice cream sundaes for the year, or little disposable cameras.)

Even more valuable than the cash, here are a few excerpts from the letters supporting his nomination:

• '. . . a child in Mr. M.'s care is guaranteed to leave school each day feeling good about him or herself.'



• "quoting Barry Lopez: 'If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away where they are needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive.' Don feeds children's brains, hearts and souls with his stories."



• 'Don knows every student at Cornell and not just by name.'

• 'Mr. M. could make fun and learning out of anything! Long-division was a piece of cake! All I had to remember was "Dumb Monkeys Steal Bananas," which was a tool to remember "Divide Multiply Subtract Bring-down." Just that phrase helped me through fifth to seventh grade, and in years to come. . . . What I loved about Mr. M. was that he really accepted me for who I was, and made me feel special and stand out from the other students. He finds what is special about them and makes them feel proud. He even builds this into the learning environment.'



• 'until Tony met Mr. M., he was bored at school.'



• 'It's not fair, Mom, everyone should get to have Mr. M. for at least one year.'



• 'Two years ago, my son Ryan was in second grade. Daily, I would drop him off at school and the tears would begin to flow. There were days when he would be so upset, that he made himself sick. A then-undiagnosed learning disorder and a general anxiety towards school made his life miserable. As a parent it broke my heart when he would turn to wave at me from the front school doors with tears in his eyes. This may sound strange, but I was at the point that I didn't care if he was learning, I just wanted to do anything to make him feel comfortable at school. In third grade . . . a miracle happened. Ryan was placed into the loving hands of Don M. When he came home from school the very first day, he repeated a funny story that Don told. I was cautiously optimisitc that Ryan was finally on the right track. Gradually, my son wanted to go to school to hear more stories. His morning tears were gone and he began to catch up scholastically with his peers. Don made him feel comfortable. He treated him with kindness and nurtured his lack of self confidence. It was the perfect learning environment for him. At the end of the year he was a changed young man. If you met my son today, you might never know about the issues he faced in his early education.'



• 'Mr. M. doesn't believe in trouble.'
  
  
• 'Through having his students read a historical novel [A Time for Andrew], Don brought back the old game of marbles to Cornell School. . . . Everyone knows what a marble is. A small glass ball with a distinctive colorful design inside. What everyone doesn't know is how the game of marbles has entwined its way through the halls of Cornell thanks to Mr. M.'s leadership. Beyond his classroom talents, Don has taken his teaching skills onto the playground. Students from all grades now have a tradition of playing marbles at recess time. Without knowing it, they have learned many social and interpersonal skills they couldn't possibly acquire inside the school walls. They have learned how to be gracious winners and hopeful losers. They have learned they do have the ability to talk and be friends with someone they don't know. They have learned that everyone has good days and bad days. His innovative teaching skills have taken a centuries-old game and turned it into something magical at Cornell. Children of all academic and athletic abilities have formed friendships they otherwise wouldn't have because Mr. M. took the time to teach them the game of marbles. Somehow, through this simple game, Mr. M. has opened a door for each child.'