In high school, a teacher’s friend in the police department asked me to go into a bar and flash a fake ID saying I was 21 even though I wasn’t. They were assuming the bar wasn’t carding people. Anyway, she forgot to ask for it back. I used it all freshman year in college.
I’d always enjoyed acting at high school, and I was all lined up to do an honours degree course in biology at a Canadian university, and at the eleventh hour the drama teacher I had said, ‘You know, you’ll get a lot more girls if you go into acting,’ and that kinda sold it.
I sat in on some songwriting classes, and it was really bloody hard, a lot of music theory. I’d be sitting there, and they’d be talking all this music theory, and the teacher would say, ‘Let’s ask our guest Jimmy what he thinks,’ and I’d be sitting there thinking, ‘Please don’t ask me, please don’t ask me.’
I was all-state in four sports in New Jersey, but sometimes I couldn’t get served at a restaurant two blocks from my high school. There were no job opportunities then… the only thing a black youth could aspire to be was a bellboy or a pullman or an elevator operator, or, maybe, a teacher. There was a time when all we had was black baseball.
When I started Battle Bots in 1999, the guy sitting next to me was a high school teacher with no robotics experience at all. There were special effects guys, engineers, software guys who just wrote code – all kinds of people who had a desire to build something. And they would do it in their garages or even their kitchens.
Research confirms that great teachers change lives. Students with one highly effective elementary school teacher are more likely to go to college, less likely to become pregnant as teens, and earn tens of thousands more over their lifetimes.
During my eleven years as a New York City public school teacher, I saw firsthand the impact that poverty has on the classroom. In low-income neighborhoods like Sunset Park, where I taught, students as young as five years old enter school affected by the stresses often created by poverty: domestic violence, drug abuse, gang activity.
I remember my choir teacher in high school told me, ‘When in doubt, sing loud.’ I’m a terrible singer, but I always auditioned for the musicals, and would get cast in them because I really would just put it all out there. That was really good advice, and I think it works for everything, not just acting.
When I was in college, I had the good fortune to have Joyce Carol Oates as my writing teacher. She told me that I could take an aspect of myself, and from that one bit of personality, I can create a character. This is what I have done, particularly in my novels.
I was invited to L.A. when I was 16 for a weekend-long songwriting session by a writer I had met through my voice teacher in Pittsburgh. My first hit, ‘Hide Away,’ was one of the songs written during those sessions. It was played for a radio rep who then started a new label; the song got a pretty organic start at radio and then took off.
I was terrified of girls until sophomore year of high school. I couldn’t even borrow pencils from them. I’d have to wait until the teacher called me out on it, like, ‘Does anybody have a pencil for Teddy?’ because I’d be too scared to ask the girl next to me.
I first decided to become an actor at school. A teacher gave us a play to do and that had a major impact. At first, I wanted to work in the theatre, but there was something about the ambience of film, especially American films, that always attracted me.
Teachers have such hard jobs and they don’t get paid well. And in order to be a teacher you need a lot of education, so people aren’t teachers for any other reason than they want to be, and they want to help educate the next generation of people.
Something happened when I was in elementary school. A Disney artist named Bruce McIntyre retired, and he had done drawings for ‘Pinocchio’ and ‘Snow White’ that was just classic stuff. He moved to the town I grew up in, Carlsbad, and he became a part-time art teacher at our elementary school.
I flunked my exam for university two times before I was accepted by what was considered my city’s worst university, Hangzhou Teachers University. I was studying to be a high school English teacher. In my university, I was elected student chairman and later became chairman of the city’s Students Federation.
My parents were born and brought up in New York City. My father was trained as an electrical engineer, and my mother was an elementary school teacher. They were the children of Jewish immigrants who had come to the United States from England and Lithuania in the late 1800s.
There were some summers when every boy in Ayrshire seemed to be playing golf, and my dad taught me. But he was a terrible teacher – of everything. Learning to drive with him almost killed me. He was the world’s most impatient man – awful short fuse.
My first plays were amazingly bad, but I had a teacher who thought I had promise, and he kept working with me. I finally went to a summer workshop before my senior year with people like Sam Shepard and Maria Irene Fornes who encouraged me to write from my subconscious, and suddenly all this material about culture clash came out.
We need to do teacher training to educate them about what temperament means. Shyness is painful and you want to help a child with shyness – but the underlying temperament of being a careful, sensitive person is to be honoured, valued and respected.
At Moscow’s Bolshoi Ballet Academy, I studied under a brilliant and fiery teacher. This tiny, stuttering old man flew into a rage if his students’ white socks failed to reach mid-calf level. Nor could he tolerate floppy hair. We wore hairnets to class – an athletic brigade of short order cooks.
It is hardly an exaggeration to say that oral teachers and sign teachers found it difficult to sit down in the same room without quarreling, and there was intolerance upon both sides. To say ‘oral method’ to a sign teacher was like waving a red flag in the face of a bull, and to say ‘sign language’ to an oralist aroused the deepest resentment.
A sponge is a funny animal to center a show on. At first, I drew a few natural sponges – amorphous shapes, blobs – which was the correct thing to do biologically as a marine science teacher. Then I drew a square sponge, and it looked so funny.
My teacher Tom Spanbauer, the man who got me started writing in his workshop, used to say: ‘Writers write because they weren’t invited to a party.’ That always struck so true, and people always nod their heads when they hear that. Especially writers.
Most of my teachers wanted to send me to the principal’s office. But my fourth-grade teacher once put her arms around me and said, ‘You sure write well.’ And I’ve had good penmanship until this day. She was the only one who ever said anything nice to me. That’s the kind of motivation that students need.
I was fortunate to have many teachers who encouraged me – one of the first was Dianne Derrick, my 5th grade teacher at Woodbury Elementary. She challenged us to write creatively and praised my work, but most importantly, she treated writing like it was important.
