Author Archives: Terry Lee Marzell

About Terry Lee Marzell

Terry Lee Marzell holds a bachelor's degree in English from Cal State Fullerton and a master's degree in Interdisciplinary Studies from Cal State San Bernardino. She also holds a certificate for Interior Design Level 1 from Mt. San Antonio College. She has been an educator in the Corona Norco Unified School District for more than 30 years.

Math teacher Michael Harding named Minnesota’s 2023 Teacher of the Year

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Mathematics teacher Michael Houston has been named the 2023 Minnesota State Teacher of the Year. Photo credit: Minnesota Public Radio

There are many people today who are calling for curriculum that meets real-world needs. Minnesota teacher Michael Houston has developed an instructional program that responds to this call. And he has been rewarded for his effort. Michael has been named the 2023 Minnesota State Teacher of the Year.

Michael teaches mathematics at Harding High School in the Saint Paul Public Schools system. In a career that spans 19 years at Harding, Michael has devoted 18 of them to the school’s football program, ten of them as Head Coat. He also serves as the Mathematics Department Chair, he is a learning team facilitator, and he is active in the local teachers’ union. And as if all that were not enough, he also works as an adjunct professor at Concordia, teaching math classes to prospective elementary teachers.

Born in Columbus, Ohio, Michael was raised in a single-parent household. He struggled in school, but when he earned his Bachelor’s degree from Concordia University, St. Paul, he was the first in his family to graduate from college. Michael also earned a Master’s degree from Hamline University.

Michael works diligently to develop curriculum that is relevant and responsive. “I did a lot of reflection about my teaching practices and what I can do, especially when we come back to the classroom, about trying to engage students and mathematics. Especially when they try to apply it outside the classroom,” explains Michael. In response, he developed lessons on personal finance, taxes, 401K’s, pensions, and Social Security.

“The generation now is really heavy on the use of technology,” observes Michael. “So I try to include investigations in which they can use their device,” he continues. “We were learning about exponential functions, and we were learning about investing, and there’s a nice little app, a little game that students were able to engage with and learn how to pick stock and invest and see the growth of that over time,” he concludes.

This is the second year that Michael has been nominated for the Teachers of the Year Award. He was named a finalist in 2017.

 

Ohio’s Krysteena Lawrence named finalist for Golden Owl Award

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Agriculture teacher and FFA advisor Krysteena Lawrence of Ohio has been named one of ten finalists for a prestigious Golden Owl Award. Photo credit: Elmwood Public Schools

Today, the importance of vocational education programs is promoted by both professional educators and laypersons. So it is wonderful when teachers of voc ed classes earn accolades for their work. One of these is Krysteena Lawrence, an agriculture teacher from northwest Ohio. She has been recognized as one of ten finalists for a prestigious Golden Owl Award.

Krysteena teaches agriculture courses at Elmwood High School in Bloomdale, Ohio. She also serves as the school’s Future Farmers of America (FFA) advisor. She has taught at the school for the past seven years.

The honored educator has volunteered many hours outside of her classroom to manage FFA projects, including a fruit sale. But she declares that relationships are the most important aspect of her work. “I enjoy developing a good rapport with my students and making them feel welcomed in my classroom at all times,” she says. “And that is before school, after school, during lunch, even if they just want to come and talk about stuff that is going on in their personal life,” she continues. “I just want to be that person that’s there for them no matter what,” she concludes.

Krysteena is one of ten finalists for the honors of 2022-2023 Ag Educator of the Year and the Golden Owl Award. She is one 521 nominations that were received for 126 different teachers. As one of the ten finalists, she was presented with a plaque and a $500 donation to her school’s agriculture program to support future educational efforts. This year, the program honors outstanding agriculture educators in nine states: California, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Nebraska, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania and South Dakota. To learn more about the program, click on this link to the Golden Owl Award.

 

Rebecca Hart garners NYC 2023-2024 Big Apple Award

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Elementary school teacher Rebecca Hart has garnered a Big Apple Award from the City of New York. Photo credit: Teachers Who Tutor NYC

The city of New York is very proud of their public school teachers. In fact, city leaders regularly honor exceptional educators with their annual Big Apple Awards. For the 2023-2024 school year, one of these exceptional educators was  Rebecca Hart, an elementary school teacher from Brooklyn. In fact, she is one of 15 exceptional teachers who have garnered a 2023-2024 Big Apple Award from the City of New York.

The honored educator teaches first grade at Brooklyn Arbor elementary, also known as PS 414, in Brooklyn. She has previously taught grades 2, 3, and 4. In a career that spans 10 years, she has taught seven of them in New York City. Prior to that, she taught or three years in Manatee County. When she is not in her classroom, Rebecca manages an after-school musical theater program for fourth and fifth grade students.

Rebecca earned her Bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education and Teaching from Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton, Florida, in 2013. She earns her Master’s degree in in Literacy Specialist from Teachers College of Columbia University in New York City in 2022.

The Big Apple Awards recognize and celebrate New York City teachers who inspire students to be their best selves, dream, and advocate for their future; model equitable learning with high expectations for the diverse and dynamic needs of all students; affirm students’ identities, unique gifts, and genius; enrich their school communities by partnering with families, community members, and community-based organizations. The recipients were chosen through a rigorous selection process that includes community nominations, principal recommendations, classroom visits, an interview, and a review by a board of judges. To learn more about the program and this year’s recipients, click on this link to Big Apple Awards.

 

Sept. 11, 2001: That was a difficult day to be a teacher

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Author Terry Lee Marzell recounts her classroom experience in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001. Photo credit: Terry Lee Marzell

That Tuesday started out like just about any other weekday in just about any other month in just about any other year of my teaching career. I groaned when the alarm clock sounded off; nevertheless, I forced my eyes open, peeled myself out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom sink to brush my teeth. Like just about any other night in my teaching career, I’d been up late grading papers, I hadn’t slept well, and even though I’d slept, I was exhausted.

As I was running cold water through my toothbrush, my level-headed and unflappable husband, who typically watches the morning news while he dresses for work, called me into the next room. “Come look at this,” he said in an even tone. “Something’s going on in New York.”

The North Tower of the World Trade Center had been hit by an airplane. Side by side we silently watched the continuous repetition of the explosive impact and the resulting inferno on the screen. We were still standing there when, to our horror, the South Tower was hit by a second plane. The aircraft sliced into the concrete and steel structure like a knife cutting butter, igniting a second conflagration. Shocked news commentators began to speculate the crashes were not accidental.

Half an hour later I was driving my customary route through the Chino dairy preserve on my way to school. My ears were superglued to updates announced through the car radio. That’s how I heard that the South Tower, the second building to be struck, had collapsed.

Once I arrived at the campus, I grabbed the contents of my mailbox and hustled to the teachers’ lounge, where I found a hushed group of co-workers clustered around the television mounted on the wall. My eyes skimmed the words “Special people work here” stenciled on the wall in black letters on a red background. I glanced back to the “breaking news” on the TV screen. Before the bell signaled the start of first period, we learned the North Tower, too, had collapsed, causing each of the 70-odd floors below the point of impact to pancake, until all that was left of what was once one of the tallest buildings in the world was reduced to a dusty heap of smoldering concrete and twisted steel. Disbelief and distress was evident in the face, the humped shoulders, the posture of every person in the room.

I taught my first period Sophomore Language Arts class that morning on automatic pilot. I didn’t mention anything about what I had seen or what I knew about the events that had already occurred that day. I didn’t want to upset my kids. But I remember thinking that many of my colleagues, particularly those in the Social Studies Department, use news reports on television as a springboard for class discussions about current events. So it was no surprise that by the time my second period class arrived, many of my students were already aware. They knew our country was under attack. And they were distraught.

Frankly, when distressing things like this happen, my instinct is to stubbornly forge ahead with the plan or the routine. I wait until the work day is over and I am at home to deal with my reactions and feelings. But kids aren’t like that. They want to know what’s happening, and they want to deal with it, NOW. No matter what the teacher wants, the students will demand to know what’s going on, they ask questions, they react, and no matter how hard you try to keep them to the lesson, they insistently pull the conversation back to the topic. And on this particular day, they were begging to be reassured that everything was going to be all right. I couldn’t just forge ahead without first addressing their concerns.

Having said that, I would also like to say that I don’t believe it’s beneficial for students to go from classroom to classroom all day, watching alarming news reports on television, and getting more and more upset as the day progresses. But on this day, I myself felt a driving need to know what was happening, so I agreed to turn on the television, just for a few minutes.

By this time, hijackings were confirmed. Reports of the fiery plane crash into the Pentagon in Washington, DC, were being described. A fourth hijacked plane crashed in an empty field in rural Pennsylvania. Legislators were evacuated from the White House and the US Capitol, accompanied by images of men in business suits and women in professional ensembles and heels scrambling down the steps of the stately historic building. All over the country, airline flights were immediately cancelled to prevent further hijackings. And the images of the collapsed structures, the once imposing buildings disintegrated into a pile of rubble amidst a huge billowing cloud of choking dust, were apocalyptic.

Holy mackerel, I thought, no wonder the kids were walking buckets of anxiety.

I turned the television off and took a deep breath. I faced the kids and encouraged them to verbalize their thoughts and reactions. They were terrified. I mean, really terrified. Their biggest fear, it was clear, was that at any moment the next hijacked plane would crash right on top of them. Right there, at school.

I took another deep breath. “I don’t think we need to worry about that,” I said finally, in the most soothing voice I could muster. “These hijackings appear to be taking place on the East Coast, in big cities with tall buildings, or at important military buildings. We’re on the West Coast, Corona is a small town a good distance away from Los Angeles, and we don’t have any tall buildings,” I reasoned earnestly. “I think we’re safe here.”

I could see the kids digesting and accepting this logic. I could feel the tension loosening. With about 15 minutes left in the period, I asked them to write whatever else they felt needed to be said about the attacks. This was important because not everybody feels safe sharing out loud, but everybody needs an opportunity to process and express.

I had to go through this three more times that day. Each period, I had to hold myself together, no matter what I felt personally, no matter what happened, until at last I was free to go home and I could allow myself to fall apart. As soon as I hit the door, I flung myself into my husband’s arms, and the two of us expressed our own fears and sought our own reassurances.

In retrospect, I know that I am just one of, literally, millions of teachers all over the country who had to abandon a carefully-constructed lesson plan that day to conduct impromptu on-the-spot counseling for panicky kids. Nor was that the only traumatic occasion in our nation’s history when a day in the life of a teacher required this. Helping our kids understand, cope, and endure is part of the job.