Passion

We have spent a lot of time recently talking about the best ways to motivate students. We have talked about creative lesson plans, interesting ways to use technology in the classroom, and how to differentiate your lesson plans to maximize each students growth. However, none of these measures, no matter how well planned out, will be effective teaching tools if the teach does not also demonstrate passion. Passion is the ultimate motivational technique. Every person that I talk to, has had at least one terrible classroom experience and every one of those experiences was due, at least in part, to the lack of interest and investment shown by the teacher. The reverse of that is also true; nearly ever one I talk to has had an inspiring classroom experience (or else they wouldn't want to be teachers). Each of the positive experiences, where the class was an unexpected revelation for the student, involved a passionate teacher who was eager to help their students grow, not just as academic entities, but also as unique individuals.

I have been lucky enough in my academic career to have had many passionate teachers. Teachers who were passionate not only for their subject, but for job and most importantly for their students. My high school biology teacher is a perfect example. My senior year I was enrolled in Advanced Honors Biology, which was a long and intimidating name for a class that turned out to be wonderfully laid back. It was rather like a playground for grown ups. There were expensive toys and pretty dyes at our disposal. This is not to say that we were not very careful with our equipment or that we did not learn a lot of important, technical information; because we did. We learned advanced staining techniques, statistical analysis, and the basics in current genetic research. But the atmosphere was reminiscent of elementary school, it was filled with unrestrained curiosity and the joy of new discoveries.

It was during the first trimester in Mr. Koepnick's class that I fell in love with science. We had been studying a bunch of new, and difficult, staining techniques. The first time that I finally got a negative stain correct, I jumped and squealed and made my best friend look at it so she would dance around with me. Mr. Koepnick came up behind us and put his arms around our shoulders. He leaned in close and asked us what all the commotion was about. Expecting some sort of reprimand for our excessive out burst, we explained about the successful stain. Mr. Koepnick frowned at us and asked, "Ladies, do you realize that you just squealed over a bacterial stain?..." Then suddenly he got a huge grin on his face, hugged us and said, "Welcome to the Science Nerds Club."

It was days like that, or the one when I got my financial aid package to Luther and he did a little dance with me, or when I was having a stress melt down and he had me go work in the green house and let the dirt cure my hurt, that made Mr. Koepnick such a wonderful teacher, person, and friend. I knew from that first moment with the negative stain that he was who I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be the teacher, who after twenty odd years of teaching still had so much passion for his subject. I wanted to be the teacher that has taught thousands of students and seen millions of negative stains, and yet still congratulates, and celebrates with each of his students when they

first get it right and when they first fall in love with his favorite subject.