In high school my favorite teacher was Mr. Carpenter.
He taught Computer Science, Trigonometry and Calculus. He ran the Math Club. He led our school’s gifted/honors program.
He was a genius. He would think before speaking. He encouraged questions. He pushed us to challenge ourselves academically. He never yelled. He never assigned us busywork.
He looked and often acted like a stereotypical absent minded professor. He had bushy eyebrows, a bushy beard, spoke softly and was often lost in his thoughts.
I loved learning from him and spending time with him. I still miss him today.
Mr. Carpenter was one of my few teacher who had a Master’s Degree
He might have even had his PhD. He taught in our high school and he taught in college. This, coupled with the fact that he taught some of my school’s toughest courses, garnered my admiration.
But it was two other things that he did that made a life-long impression on me.
#1 He taught General Math. General math was for the “dumb kids” who had no basic math skills. These kids were usually failures. They failed classes, were held back and often were disciplinary problems.
When I asked him why he’d teach General Math when he clearly was better than this and had so much more to offer higher level students he explained,
I think it is my duty to help students at all levels. I can teach General Math students just like I can teach advanced Math students. I am not too good to help them. Everybody deserves a chance to have a good teacher.
#2 He took classes at college. Despite his advanced degrees and secure position, Mr. Carpenter still took classes at college in the evening. He said that he did this because:
I never want to forget what it feels like to be student. Being a student at college helps me to be a better teacher.
More than any other teacher, Mr. Carpenter tried to take me under his wing and guide me.
For many reasons, I didn’t accept his guidance.
He offered to help me get a summer internship with an actuarial firm. (I declined because I wanted to make money delivering pizza vs. working for free.)
He pushed me to go to Carnegie Mellon University instead of the University of Pittsburgh. He said Pitt would be a waste for me but at CMU I’d be challenged and would learn so much more. (I went to Pitt because I couldn’t afford CMU, even with scholarships.)
When a new advanced curriculum program was being planned during my junior year, he recruited me hard to be in its first class. (Unfortunately by this time I had soured on high school. I was on track to graduate as valedictorian. I knew I was a “genius”. I didn’t want to sign up for all of the extra work that was sure to come with this program.)
My attitude and response to this last overture was too much. I said,
I know you want me in the program because I’d make the program look good. But it’s going to be a lot of extra homework and effort that I don’t need. What’s in it for me?
Mr. Carpenter got really angry. We ended the meeting and I’m not sure we ever spoke again.
I didn’t realize how upset he was until we had our “National Honor’s Society” ceremony later that year and in his presentation he said, “NHS members don’t say ‘What’s in it for me?'”
He blocked me from getting in that year. In fact, I wasn’t made a member until shortly before graduation because, after all, it wouldn’t look good for the valedictorian on stage to not be in the NHS, even if that guy was an asshole.
I recall being very smug onstage when I had the NHS thing put around my neck.
It wasn’t until I had finished my first (humbling) year in college that I realized that everything Mr. Carpenter had told me was true. He really was trying to help me. All along he had my best interests at heart.
I was so busy that it never occurred to me to tell him that. I guess I figured I’d get around to it someday when I returned to visit my old high school as a triumphant success.
Instead, just a year after I left high school, I heard that Mr. Carpenter had died from Leukemia.
It turned out that he had been battling this disease the entire time that I knew him.
But he never mentioned it to me or my friends who were even closer to him.
Damn.
I had no idea.
I wish I would have reached out to him even one time to thank him, to make amends and to let him know how much he meant to me.
By the time I heard the news, Mr. Carpenter’s funeral has passed. I wrote a letter to his wife saying everything to her that I would have said to him. It wasn’t enough, but I didn’t want to let him go without saying anything.
I ran into her years later and she told me it meant a lot.
Occasionally I still have dreams where I get to talk to Mr. Carpenter. In them, I tell him everything I wanted to say. I ask his advice. We laugh and share stories. Those are good dreams.
If you have a Mr. Carpenter in your life, I hope you’ll take the time to contact him now. You’ll be glad you did. (If you don’t know what to say, this might help.)
In memory of John Carpenter
Pittsburgh Public School Teacher at Oliver High School (1981-1987, or longer).
Taught: Math, Computer Science, Scholar’s Program, CAS Program
Died ~ 1987.
If you knew Mr. Carpenter please share your stories in the comments. Or if you have your own Mr. Carpenter-like stories, feel free to share them too.