Dedicated/Early Riser

The school years passed, and eventually I found myself in college. I had pretty much held myself to the same standard throughout college. In fact, I probably had regressed into an even lazier version of my former self. Of course my biology classes were part of this reason. I rarely had the need to even write the notes down. They simply felt like someone was filling me in on a story that I had read many times before. The one class that I was forced to work hardest in was Calculus III. I had the Mr. Coate of mathematics that year.

Part of my love for mathematics is that it is algorithmic. If you learn to develop and follow the processes, then you were normally successful. Dr. Shilgalis understood this, but he wanted more from us. Every test consisted of nothing but applications and word problems. He wanted us to develop creativity in our applications of those algorithms. I italicized the word forced in the last paragraph on purpose. Mr. Coate had this effect on all of us as well.

Biology was the preparation for his upper level classes. You were forced to learn a great deal of material. When you got to Anatomy, you were no longer just memorizing material. You were now going to apply this material. Many of my fellow classmates were struggling with Calc III. More importantly, they were struggling with a teacher who demanded more than what was presented in class. I know for a fact that it was my four-years with a relentless taskmaster that allowed me to succeed in that class.

On a side note, I had noticed many similarities between Mr. Coate and Dr. Shilgalis throughout the semester. For instance one day in class we were waiting for Dr. Shilgalis. He normally came into the room about five minutes before class was to start. On this particular day, he was late by his standards. A secretary then entered the room and informed us that Dr. Shilgalis would be ten minutes late and that we were to wait for him in the
room. When he finally walked in, his face was covered with two patches of bloody gauze. One of my classmates asked what had happened. He told us the doctor got a little crazy removing some skin cancer. Of course we were all taken aback, but after the initial shock subsided, I realized that I was actually not surprised at all. I had spent four years with Mr. Coate. Such dedication was actually commonplace.

As the time passed, my arrogance began to be replaced by maturity. I was no longer satisfied with simply getting by in my classes. My senior year of college required me to complete student teaching. I then began my career as a mathematics teacher. Each year has been difficult and each year I try to make myself a better teacher (maybe my expectations of a teacher are too high, but I cannot imagine why that would be). I can no longer use my talents alone to get by. I have come to learn that it is only our effort that maintains us. Oh, and that getting in around 6:00 in the morning as a teacher is not as crazy as I once thought it was. There is a certain amount of peace that is obliterated when the children get there. Maybe I should try lecturing with my eyes closed. It always seemed to work for Mr. Coate.

I've graphed Mr. Coate's final lesson on this page.

Success, satisfaction, and effort are all related.

Ross Moyer