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Not What It Seems
Our Spanish 3 class had already gone through two teachers, and Senorita Hajack was about to be our third. Much like classic books in literature, Senorita Hajack was well known in the Spanish department. She had agreed to come out of retirement to help one of her previous student teachers, Mrs. Ferhman, who had gone on maternity leave. The rare occurrence that she took students under her wing was a big deal and it was not to be taken as a joke, especially because she had been around for decades. Not only did she educate my mom, who was born in the 70s, but she had also taught numerous adult co-workers of mine. Everyone said the same thing- she’s a bad*** who could teach like no other. She knew Spanish was her thing, and she also proudly took the fear that followed her name in her stride. She was a deadly teacher according to my co-worker; she knew she was intimidating and she used it to her advantage.
Our previous two teachers, Mrs. Ferhman and Mrs Bullock, had tried their best to prepare us for what was to come, but when a petite, full, older woman with patchy red curly hair marched into the classroom, we froze with fear. She placed herself in the center of the room, looked at every single one of us in the eyes, and began her lecture.
Senorita Hajak declared, “first things first, there will be no English. If there is, you will get points off for each word I hear!” Her booming voice was followed by several worried gulps, me being one of them. “If I ask in English, you may answer in English, that is the only time from now on. From the time you enter the classroom, to the time you leave, I only will allow Spanish.” With a dictator like manner, she went on to explain more classroom rules, in spanish of course; no phones were allowed, if you were caught cheating, you would regret it, homework needs to be done, and respect must be given to her and to other classmates. She ended her first lecture on a lighter note though.
“Spanish is a complicated language. It is okay to mess up. It is okay to embarrass yourself. It is even okay to make up words from time to time. It is not okay to quit however. I do not teach quitters.”
My hatred for Spanish was already at an all time high from Freshman year Spanish but finding out that I couldn’t talk to my friends in English put me over the edge. Day after day, I dreaded going to eighth period. The first few weeks of having Senorita Hayjack, I refused to speak in class. Not only did I refuse to speak but I also never participated. I, along with the entire class, was living in constant fear of having points taken away.
Weeks had gone by and her real-life style teaching had much to my dismay paid off. Senorita Hayjacks unnerving voice stuck with me and suddenly I was understanding more than ever. I gained the confidence to talk within my table group, too much confidence. Not only was I chatty but Drew, Jack M, Jack B, and Amanda also didn’t have mute buttons. Finally class had started to become fun again but It wasn’t long before Senorita Hayjack took a certain disliking to my table
“Menos Puntos!” was hollered almost every day to my group of friends, yet we never got points off. Senorita Hayjack would raise her stern eyes into a high arch and clear until one of us felt the heat radiating off of our neck. To make matters worse by the time we realized the whole class was usually staring. We eventually learned our lesson.
Our class became very comfortable with each other after Senorita Hayjack arrived. She drilled the idea of comfort and respect into our head.
She was constantly repeating, “if you don’t understand, say so. I guarantee someone else in this class doesn’t understand but is too scared to say something. You kids cannot be afraid to make a mistake in front of kids who are learning the same stuff as you.” We all got very good at reading other peoples faces to look for struggling brains. A student was never left behind in eighth period Spanish 3. When it came time for our speaking final, Hayjack gave us the freedom of picking an equal level speaking partner. It was because we were so comfortable with each other that we were open about who was bad, who was good, and who was mediocre; there was no judging.
Senorita Hayjack wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t teach quitters. If someone said they couldn’t do it, she made them think twice about it. Garrie, a classmate of mine, was constantly being heard saying negative things about his Spanish speaking skills. Every single time, she strutted over and encouraged him to think differently. She wouldn’t allow two seniors to fail her class and insisted they continue their hard work. She never purposely put down students, she only tried to encourage and uplift them.
It wasn’t until I wrote this paper that I realize how soft of a heart Senorita Hayjack actually had. She taught us hard and pushed us to our limits but she did it because she knew we were capable of surviving it. She gave us hard love when we were use to soft love but it was exactly what we needed and she knew that. As harsh and vigorous as Senorita Hajak was, her approach to Spanish opened up a new chapter for me- a lot of the times intimidating things, like classics, aren’t really all that intimidating. A lady who I thought was going to scare me to death ended up being one of the best teachers I have ever had.
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Written as an imitation of "Clamorous to Learn" by Eudora Welty, I describe my experience with my third spanish teacher in a year, Senorita Hayjack.