Dear Mr. G, thanks for the green shoes and life lessons

Throughout the 32 years that I’ve been teaching, there have been many times when I’ve thought of my own teachers and their influences on my interactions with my students. 

I have had several special teachers – too many to write about in this short column – but one in particular, Mr. Jack Gardiner, recently passed away following a journey with dementia. In tribute to him, I write this column. 

In September 1980, “Mr. G.” – an experienced teacher and farmer – started teaching at our school as my Grade 8 teacher. On the first day, he wore dress pants, a dress shirt and tie, and a pair of platform running shoes. While platform shoes were fairly trendy at the time, what stood out to us was the fact that Mr. G’s shoes were emerald green. A little nervous to meet our new teacher, most of us observed the footwear in shocked silence, but one boy muttered, “Look at his shoes!” loudly enough for Mr. G. to hear him. Thus, began the first of many Grade 7 “life lessons.” 

Mr. Gardiner laughed at the boy’s comment, and quickly informed us of the deal he got on them! Everyone wanted trendy colours, but he bought his shoes for a fraction of the cost because no one else wanted them. He didn’t care that they were green; they were comfortable and a lot cheaper than the others. An off-handed comment became a teachable moment, reminding us to be individuals and not so concerned about the opinions of others. Also, if you find a good price on a comfortable pair of shoes, your money will go a lot further!

His clothing was often a bonding point that year. We found it very funny that his tie usually lived in his desk drawer (“just in case”), and that one of our classmates continually reminded Mr. G. that “you can’t wear checks with stripes.” He had the habit of wearing different plaids or patterns together and our friend always called him out on it. At the time, I found it amusing; in hindsight, I recall that this student had suffered tremendous loss in her life. Regardless of whether Mr. Gardiner wore checks and stripes together purposely knowing she needed the distraction, or whether he did so absent-mindedly, he brought a smile to her face and the faces of so many others. 

Again on the topic of image, Mr. Gardiner, who had been a great athlete in his younger years and had gained some weight in middle age, challenged anyone who thought they could beat him in a race to donate $1.00 to charity if he won. Of course, all of the boys in our class showed up for the big race across our school soccer field. Mr. G. appeared in a tracksuit (and his green runners), as the boys laughed and acted like the race was finished before it had begun. The joke was on them when Mr. G. blew them all out of the water, collecting money for charity, and also reminding all of us to avoid judging people’s abilities from outward appearances.

One day, Mr. G. dropped a piece of garbage on the floor and proceeded to call people to his desk. One by one we walked past the garbage until one girl picked it up and threw it out. We were thus reminded to take notice of our surroundings and to not be so caught up in ourselves that we overlook ways to contribute to our community. Even if it’s not our “problem,” we can be part of the solution. 

Mr. Gardiner also insisted that we learn practical skills, such as how math can be used for shopping, farming, or building. We used rulers, saws, hammers, and nails to build our own nativity sets that year. We read history books and non-fiction stories from The Reader’s Digest anthologies, and we all knew literary terms such as “alliteration” and “onomatopoeia” because he constantly made jokes when examples of these terms arose in literature or in daily conversation. 

Many other funny and influential stories from my Grade 7 year have remained with me. Through humour and practical examples, Mr. Gardiner reinforced the Gospel messages of humility, service, and avoiding judgment, and while I may use more conventional teaching methods, I hope that my Grade 7 students will remember the life lessons I likewise try to impart.

It saddens me to know that Mr. Gardiner eventually lost his memory, but I am thankful that he lives in mine. With gratitude for his inspiration, I pray that he may rest in peace.

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