It’s Not What You Teach, It’s How You Teach It

Photo courtesy of Ken Keller

The first moment of my High School experience was a memorable one.  I reported to my classroom that first day filled with apprehension and a flock of butterflies in my stomach.  Those fears quickly abated when I saw him walk in the room.  He entered the room whistling some obscure WWII song.  He had shoulders that slumped forward and a smile on his face that went from ear to ear.  He walked to the front of the classroom, turned to face us, giggled and then wrote; “Welcome to Hell” on the chalkboard.  I knew then and there that he and I were going to get along just fine.

Mr. Jim Sibert was my Algebra 1A teacher, my aviation teacher and a mentor and role model to many.  I got one of those Classmates emails yesterday that tells you that 45 people are looking for you, and wouldn’t you like to know who?  Just $4.95 a month and you can find out WHO is trying to find YOU!  I think they already found me on Facebook, thanks.  And it didn’t cost them a dime.  Anyway, for whatever reason, I clicked on it and saw a thread from last summer from Mr. Sibert’s daughter letting everyone know that he had passed away.  I read through the 40 or 50 comments and it reminded me of the impact he had on my life, and on so many others’ lives.  See, the thing about Mr. Sibert was that he truly cared about his students.  By that, I mean that he made sure you learned the material.  He did that by actually teaching the material, and he did it in a fun, engaging way that made learning interesting.  He also held you accountable; a rarity today when kids are treated with kid gloves and “nurtured” for 9 months so that they pass the EOG test and ensure that the state gets their funding for the following year.  It’s not about learning anymore, it’s about money.  Education has become a business….whoa; did you see that?  I almost got all the way up onto the soapbox.  Back to our story.

That first day in Mr. Sibert’s class was a Godsend for me and 22 other terrified Freshmen.  Our High School had a tradition of the upperclassmen harassing, intimidating, and generally just making life miserable for the Freshmen and some of the un-initiated Sophomores; but always in a good natured, fun way.  There was nothing malicious about it, it was just the way it was.  I mean, come on, you’re a FRESHMAN, you’ve got to earn the respect and the title of BMOC, nobody is going to hand it to you.  Besides, when you got to be a Junior or Senior, it would be your turn to harass the young ones.  If you’ve seen the movie Dazed and Confused then you get the picture.  There were things like: the selling of Pool passes.  They were $5 if I recall.  We didn’t have a pool.  You could also buy elevator passes.  4 for $1, 25 for $5 or a yearly pass for $20.  None of the buildings on campus had elevators.  The Juniors and Seniors would get lunch money, and the Freshmen (and gullible Sophomores) would get a valuable lesson; trust no one, stay on your toes and dang-it, Mom and Dad, why couldn’t you have given me an older brother or sister to warn me about this stuff?  I was lucky; I had an older brother and sister who; like Mr. Sibert, warned me about the money scams, but they didn’t give away all of the secrets; what fun would that be?

They didn’t tell us that as we were walking back to school from lunch (we were able to go off-campus, not like the gestapo run closed campuses of today) we could expect to be showered with sodas, milkshakes and unfinished food.  One upperclassman made his Mom pack him a liverwurst sandwich everyday, but he never ate it.  He’d go to McDonalds or Charcoaler for lunch and save the sandwich for the poor, un-drivers-licensed Freshmen.  He knew that if the wind was right he could make that liverwurst sandwich actually stick to the Freshmen.  Sometimes he’d throw the whole sandwich, other days he’d cut it in halves or quarters to increase his ammunition.  He was an artist, really.  Mr. Sibert and my siblings also failed to warn me about the trash can “rides” that the upperclassmen were eager to give, and at no cost to you; this was a freebie.  More than one of my friends was sent rolling down a hill headfirst in a metal drum for the amusement of the Juniors and Seniors.  I’m just glad that I could run fast.  One day my buddy Randy said; “Do you think we can out run them?”  I told him; “WE don’t have to out run them, Randy; I just have to out run YOU!”

Mr. Sibert and students

One of the highlights of Mr. Sibert’s class was The Chair.  He was retired Air Force and loved all things having to do with flying.  One of his favorite stories to tell was how his shoulders got slumped forward.  He fell off the outside ladder of an air control tower.  “I followed my training, pulled my arms in, bent at the knee and looked at my feet for the ground.  But I didn’t see the ground, I saw clouds.”  He landed upside down on his head and broke his back and both shoulders.  They set them wrong and he lived the rest of his life in constant shrug.  It didn’t change his outlook at all, he was always happy and a smile never left his face.  The Chair was a “Vertigo chair” and was used to train fighter pilots.  It had a large square base and a sturdy back, which was essential.  The way it worked was; you would sit in the chair and Mr. Sibert would blindfold you.  You sat up straight, then he would lean your head either left or right.  You had to hold your head in that position while he spun you right round baby, right round, like a record baby….sorry, for about 15 seconds or so.  THEN, he would grab and stop the chair instantly and at the same time yell; “SIT UP!”  When you did, life as you knew it was over, because what you were doing was front flips, or back flips (depending on which way he spun you) at an alarming rate.  Have you ever had one of those nightmares where you are falling and falling and tumbling and tumbling?  Yeah, this was like that, only at 78 speed (there’s an old turntable phrase for ya).  The person in the chair usually resembled a kitten being thrown out of a tree.  Their hands would grip the arms of the chair and hang on for dear life, the legs were usually flailing about in random fashion.  The effect lasted for about 30 seconds, and in all the times I saw Mr. Sibert subject someone to The Chair, not once did I see someone puke.  Unbelievable, I know, but true.  That first day of class Mr. Sibert clued the unknowing into the money scams that the upperclassmen would try to pull, he didn’t dig that, but all other gags were fine.  There would be times when, right in the middle of class, the door would fly open and there would be 2 or 3 Seniors smiling, saying “We got one!” and they would drag some poor hapless Freshman to Mr. Sibert’s chair.  He always made sure the Freshman was cool with it first; of course, what Freshman would be dumb enough to say no?

Mr. Sibert started and taught the aviation classes at my High School.  It was awesome, and it was hard!  Some people took it thinking it was going to be some blow-off class, but it was anything but.  It wasn’t Quantum Physics hard, but it was still a challenge.  We learned the 3 letter abbreviation of every airport in the United States, radio lingo, wind currents, weather patterns, cloud names and formations, it was like geography, geology, physics, calculus and geometry all in one.  And it was a blast.  We turned plastic dry cleaning bags into hot air balloons, flew rockets, Cox airplanes, you name it.  As I was reading through the comments on his daughters thread yesterday, I was taken by all of the people who were now working in the aviation field.  Some are pilots, some are air traffic controllers, some build airplanes and some just love being passengers.  Every comment talked about what a profound impact Mr. Sibert had had on their lives.  To me, that is the ultimate testimony of his life; the sheer number of people he touched in his lifetime.  His goal was to teach and expand young minds, and he succeeded famously.  Although, he wasn’t above scrambling a few minds in his Chair every now and then either.  Godspeed, Mr. Sibert.