Now I know none of you have ever heard of Norman Coulter. He’s not a famous author, Indie or otherwise. He was my seventh grade teacher. That school had only two rooms so Mr. Coulter taught grades five through eight. And that year I spent in his class was his first year teaching.

A little background may be in order. Picture a rural farming community of mostly “Old Order Mennonites” or close to that. There are so many orders no one can keep them straight. Suffice it to say that none of the ones whose children attended that school valued education. It was a bad influence that lured their children away from their way of life. And understand that in the entire school, my sister and I, one other girl and three children from another family were the only non-Mennonites. (Being ‘other’ could lead me into a whole new direction, but not today.) Not an auspicious environment for an inexperienced young idealist fresh out of university with the goal of ‘educating’ children.

I have forgotten the names of most of my teachers in the early grades. But not Mr. Coulter. I remember the science experiments he demonstrated in class, the way he introduced music and poetry, making both come to life with his enthusiasm. I remember how he tried, unsuccessfully, to convince one girl’s parents not to force her to ‘fail’ so she could at least attend the first year of high school, and that girl’s disappointment that she would not be able to go. You see, farm kids could leave school at 14. Many kids were told by their parents and their church to fail grade eight to avoid high school. This bothered Mr. Coulter – a lot. I could tell, because he spoke so passionately about the value of education. He went to another school the following year, but soon left teaching altogether. The system wasn’t ready for him. He was too forward thinking and cared too much. I heard he went to factory work – such a loss for education.

I remember a lot about Mr. Coulter. I wanted so much to please him, to make him proud of me, since I could never get that from my parents. I remember the one time I disappointed him by taking a shortcut on an art project. He didn’t get angry, just quietly told me he thought I could have done better.

What I remember most, though, is sitting at our desks after lunch every day for 30 minutes while he read aloud to us. The book he chose was “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo, an abridged version to be sure, but still a lengthy tome. He must have also talked about the social issues portrayed in that book, though I don’t remember that specifically. But he must have, because I remember thinking about the unfairness of jailing a man for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his family. I remember thinking about forgiveness and mercy when the priest said he ‘gave’ Jean Valjean the silver. I remember thinking about poverty, justice, and war. And about courage, and redemption and transformation. Those were the aspects of that book that captured and entranced me, and that have stayed with me all my life.

Now, as I look back on that year I see the huge influence dear Mr. Coulter had on a suggestible adolescent girl. I think that without his reading and discussing that book I may never have become a writer. And I know that my writing reflects the things I learned from listening to and discussing that book. The way I look at people, at the world, and at human nature have been influenced, dare I say even shaped, to a degree by this one humble young man with the idea that he could make a difference. I wish I could let him know that he did – at least with one person. Thank you Norman Coulter, wherever you are. You are not forgotten.

* * * * *

Yvonne Hertzberger is a Contributing Author at Indies Unlimited and author of Back From Chaos and Through Kestrel’s Eyes, Books One and Two of Earth’s Pendulum, an Epic fantasy trilogy. For more information please see the IU Bio page and her blog at http:/yvonnehertzberger.com

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