Mrs. Marguerite Miller
I recently saw a notice that one of my high school teachers was ill. I think I saw it on Facebook in a note posted by one of my high school classmates. That notice got me to thinking about my high school teachers.
I loved my time in high school. I wasn't a big man on campus. I wasn't an athlete or an intellectual giant (I think I finished 14th in my class of about 155.). I was a nerd, but nerds were well accepted there. As one of my classmates said at our fifty year reunion, “We were kind to each other.”
One reason I loved my time there was my teachers. Looking back to my yearbooks, a lot of them I don't recognize, but a few I do: Mr. Keith, Mr. Bennett, Mr. Millet, Mr. Josserand, Miss Mosley, Mr. Rice, Mr. Forrest, Mr. Clark, Mr. Cappel, Mr. Beall, Miss Connely, and Mrs. Marguerite W. Miller. I've noticed that I remember the male teachers more than the female teachers. I guess I had more of these as teachers. However, the one I remember most fondly is Mrs. Marguerite Miller.
I took speech from Mrs. Miller. I think it was my senior year. As I recall, I had a choice of taking English IV or speech. I opted for speech, but went on to major in English at LSU. Odd, but true.
I've never regretted choosing speech.
When I was about ten or so, I, apparently, had a speech problem. I think I slurred my words. My parents sent me to a private teacher to attempt to improve my speech. I barely remember it, and I have no idea if the teacher improved my speech.
I think I chose speech over English IV to avoid English IV, not to improve my speech. But in spite of my questionable motivation, I did learn about speech and even developed an interest in public speaking. Heck, I learned about Demosthenes and even practiced speaking with marbles in my mouth. Did I mention that I was a nerd?
Mrs. Miller was sponsor of the Drama Club. The first year as an actor I was given the role of ship's steward, and I had one brief appearance on stage, and I had one line to deliver: “All ashore that's going ashore.” I was brilliant. Unfortunately, Mrs. Miller cast me in a lead role the next year in, I think, a play entitled “Penny.” I was Penny's father and had a couple of pretty long pieces of dialogue which I delivered with all the acting skills of a zombie chimpanzee. Heck, I felt fortunate just to remember my lines. I was such a nerd.
I learned two things for sure in my time with Mrs. Miller: I was no actor and I should not pursue a career involving public speaking. But learning what one is not good at is just as important as learning what areas in which one might be able to succeed.
Mostly I remember my fear each time it came my turn to speak. It was so bad that I even tried self-hypnosis to try to help me settle down. By the way, this worked for me, but I tended to apply it to the point that I lost all interest in what I was saying. Oh, well. But, I think, Mrs. Miller helped me overcome my fears, not completely, but to a great degree.
I think the thing that has pretty well cured me of my fear of public speaking is old age. Folks eventually reach a point of not giving a damn what others may think of them…well, that and Mrs. Miller.
Bless her heart.
As I recall, she seemed to always have a supportive, positive attitude mixed with a sense of humor which was helpful to even a nerd like myself.
Although I taught English, not speech, I tried to work in at least one speech each year for my students hopefully to help one of the nerds I was teaching. When I scheduled these speeches, I always thought of Mrs. Miller.
I didn't know if she had survived to this day, so I emailed a friend in Pineville who would probably know. She told me that Mrs. Miller had passed away several years ago. I hate it when I'm late saying “Thank you.” I guess I shouldn't be surprised; she was a veteran teacher when I was in her class and I'm 74 years old now.
Late or not, thank you, Mrs. Miller.
enough
MM
