Jill Woodworth was a teacher.
If you knew her, you knew that. As a teacher at Climax-Scotts, she had a hand in educating the kids of our small community for three decades. She’s taught countless kids how to read, how to do math, and how to LOVE learning. She’s taught them to tie shoes and zip coats, and she’s put hundreds of baby teeth into little baggies to be taken home and shown to doting parents. She’s read thousands of stories, graded thousands of papers, and planned thousands of lessons, and she did all that...Because she’s a teacher.
Did she teach you?
Jill had a million tiny things about her that each of us hold dear. They’re those classic Jill Woodworth things that made everything seem A-OK in the world. That giggle. Her smile. Her quiet presence. The sigh. The way she would tell kids,”You CAN hang up your coat, now go back and try.” Everyone felt safe, felt like they belonged, and learned in her classroom. There were frequently caterpillars or chrysalises, or some other bit of nature to explore. The kids knew that she cared about their reading skills, and also about them as a person. She was the constant, calm presence in a chaotic world for so many students, past and present. Even kids who never had her as a teacher spoke of her being kind to them when they crossed paths in the hallway. She was teaching everywhere she went.
Some classes are always more challenging than others, and she managed each one with so much grace and patience. If kids were acting out, screaming, throwing papers, or any number of other poor choices, she just kept on caring and teaching and pushing on through until the end of the day when she could joyfully wave goodbye as the busses pulled away. She never gave up on her kids, even when they pushed her to tears. Those moments were rare, but they were real. She taught us to be human. She reminded us that each child is worth the time to listen to, and really hear what they’re saying. She didn’t need to be flashy or loud. You can create Thanksgiving memories with pancakes and sausage just as well as if you’d put on a Broadway show! She taught THIRTY YEARS of students!
Now she’s teaching us something new, and this is the hard part. It’s the lesson no one wants to learn. She’s teaching us how to go on without her. It’s not written in the Common Core Standards, but if it was, it might sound like this: I can be sad sometimes. I can miss her. I can feel her quiet, calming presence, and see her handiwork all around the school. I can giggle again and laugh again. I can share wonderful memories of Mrs. Woodworth. I can cherish the people around me, and tell them so. I can keep her smile in my mind. I can remember her with love.
Thank you, Jill Woodworth, for all of the work you’ve put into helping each of us become the best we can be.
