January 23, 1970

Nate and I were both energized over the prospect of getting the second car we needed, and I looked forward to seeing my folks. Talking at length about what I should look for when Dad and I went shopping, we agreed it should be something economical but with a little “cool”…. if possible.

Before that exciting weekend, however, I had to meet with Principal Scarce about my teacher evaluation. The day he had visited my classroom, the children had been full of zip, talking over each other and refusing to act in orderly ways. I watched him write things down and wondered if those were marks against me.

There had been a skirmish in the cloakroom that day, and Mr. Scarce had volunteered to settle it. By “settle it” he meant bring the guilty parties to me. In 10 seconds he appeared with a firm grip on the shoulders of two boys. Waiting for me to dish out the discipline, he frowned when I told the boys we would talk about it after the principal’s visit.

As Mr. Scarce sat in the back of the room, I saw my students (and myself) through different eyes – highly critical ones. Why was I so loosey-goosey? Why wasn’t I a better disciplinarian? I beat myself up for not having taught them to take turns better and to sit quietly when I was talking. And why hadn’t I made a seating chart rather than letting the kids sit anywhere?

But his classroom visit was a done deal now.

As I arrived at his office, he told me he’d judged me on 20 different points and then summarized it with a numerical grade, 1-5 — 1 being superior, 5 being poor. I decided the best approach during the conference would be for me to say as little as possible.

We sat down with his grading sheet, and I was relieved to see he’d circled quite a few number 1’s. I did get a 3, though, indicating I wasn’t “punctual and regular in the performance of duty.” That may have been because Linda, Judy, and I often came racing into school at the last minute, thanks to our long commute and unpredictable snowstorms.

He also thought I could use tests and test results better and become more familiar with my students through their cumulative records. I didn’t think first graders had had much time to accumulate records, but I nodded and said nothing. As for a seating chart, I came out ahead on that one. He left the line blank.

He also said I wasn’t the greatest at cooperating with attempts to adjust curriculum through experimentation. What he didn’t know was that every day was an experiment. My students were lucky to be learning anything from such an inexperienced teacher. Tempted to make that joke, I bit my lip and stayed quiet.

When Mr. Scarce flipped over the evaluation page, he read me what he’d written: “Mrs. Nyman is doing a fine job in her assignment. Pupil growth is evident. She maintains a classroom that is an exciting place to be. Her pupils are eager to learn and they are progressing well.”

And then he pointed to his summary grade. “I gave you a 1,” he said. I could have hugged him.

It was a pleasure to sign the form, and I was grateful.

“…. in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9)