As a teacher now I can reflect with 20/20 hindsight that Mr. B was an incredibly devoted teacher. He stayed after school every day just so we could work math problems. He wrote his own curriculum, which pulled from high level college course content and presented it as what should be known. He also thought of our success beyond high school, getting us to commit to working the fundraising booth at Foxboro stadium, and later providing us with a scholarship check.
When I get asked about the teachers that influenced me, I can't help but think of Mr. B. He defined my relationship with math and other math mentors for the next 20 years. He was one of a series of professors that challenged me relentlessly because they saw something in me, in my classmates. They raised the bar so high that I groaned and complained, and yes, more crying. I never quite knew what they were actually thinking of me, I just kept trying to work hard. I never quite knew if I was ever going to be good enough for them, but I just kept fighting through it. This was my relationship with math and mentors. This was how it was defined, and I came out the other end (miraculously) and was more well-prepared than many of my colleagues. I came out a mathematician and a teacher, ready to help others redefine their relationships with mathematics.
How much of that do I want to be Mr. B for my own students? Perhaps I'll strip away the fear and look for the brighter things. Perhaps I'll take his potty jokes about function machines: "You put x in there, you get x-squared. You put poopy-doo in there, you get poopy-doo-squared!" Perhaps I'll take his vision for crafting his own curriculum as I do the same for my classes, for my students, and for my program. Perhaps I'll support the whole student in their ambitions, not just in the context of a classroom. Perhaps I'll instill the same work ethic that Mr. B tried to instill in all of us. Perhaps I can laugh at his love of Sophia Loren basketball, and creating his hardest exams while on the toilet. Perhaps I can work out math problems on restaurant napkins with my kids and with my students.
Perhaps I'll bring an optimism that says I should believe in my students. Perhaps I'll strive to give others an opportunity where I had none myself. Perhaps I'll fight cancer with the same tenacity some day. Perhaps I'll joke that I'll be around to teach the children of my current students. Perhaps I'll be a bulldog - a Canton Bulldog and a bulldog that grabs life - and I'll hold on to working for something greater than me.
But I will remember also the ways I was challenged. The ways in which I want to carry on the legacy, but to new audiences and new generations. The ways in which I will challenge others to grow where they haven't been asked to work hard before. The ways in which I needed affirmation, but did not always hear the ways it was given. All of these harder lessons, I will also remember. When I construct new things using the lessons left behind, I will remember all of them, and I will remember him. RIP Mr. B.
