Experience is a hard teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward. Vern Law, baseball player. 

Right after college, I moved to South Bend, Indiana, to teach. Well, that’s not quite accurate. First, I applied to 25 community colleges across the country for teaching jobs in community colleges, and received no offers. But, Steve Noltie, a friend at University of California at Riverside had a friend who was teaching in South Bend, and his college was looking for a math instructor. After interviewing there, I was offered a job teaching math and physics for trade vocations at Indiana Vocational Technical College (nicknamed Ivy Tech). The pay was low ($5 an hour or about $9,100 per year), but I really wanted to teach, so this was an exciting step forward for me. Having grown up in a Navy family, I had spent my whole life living near the water. My desire was to live in the heartland of America and experience the culture of the midwest. 

Ivy Tech South Bend was one of 13 Ivy Tech campuses around the state that taught practical trade skills to students of all ages. When I arrived at Ivy Tech, I was told that although I was to teach math and physics, I could not teach these as pure subjects. Rather I must teach these disciplines in the context of the trade or vocation to which they applied. So I taught math for business, math and physics for electronic technicians and auto mechanics. We covered compound interest, Ohm’s law, and calculation of how much water to add to coolant to get the right blend of anti-freeze.  I even taught math for welding, how to read a ruler to cut rod to correct lengths. One vocation I liked most was math for the tool and die trade, in which students learned the geometry behind mill work. The students knew that if they didn’t get the math right, they would not have the skills to lay out and cut metal properly. We covered all aspects of geometry, talking about similar triangles, congruent angles, and even proofs. One of my hardest working students was a 40-year old army veteran who was also a jazz pianist. He would go to the chalkboard, set out the axioms and steps and lay down a proof that did exactly what was needed. I was greatly impressed with his conscientiousness and work ethic, a testament to the fact that math really was accessible to anyone willing to work at it, and paid off in enabling people to hire into good paying jobs. 

South Bend was a fair sized city of over 100,000, previously home to Studebaker, an  automobile manufacturer. By the time I arrived in 1975, Studebaker had been out of business eight years, and South Bend was in a state of urban decline. The large downtown area had department stores and numerous specialty shops, but these were closing up as residents moved out to the suburbs and their shopping malls. The buildings at Ivy Tech were very old and in bad shape. In the summer, thunderstorms brought heavy rains, and we had to set out buckets and trash cans to catch water dripping in from a leaky roof. 

My department chair was Ray Collings, a mathematician who went to Wheaton College then received his masters at Notre Dame University. Living near Notre Dame allowed me to take advantage of its local sporting events. Not football though, since those tickets were impossible to get, as alumni from around the country flew in on autumn weekends to attend the games. I was able to go to Notre Dame hockey games, though, and see basketball games coached by Digger Phelps. I followed through on a long-term desire to take voice lessons, and was accepted into the South Bend Symphony Choir run by a professor at Indiana University South Bend. I made friends at church, and spent time canoeing on the St. Joseph River and attending concerts of the South Bend Symphony. 

Teaching was what I wanted to do, and teaching at Ivy Tech made it special, because I was making math and science practical. I put hours into preparation of my teaching syllabus, making sure we covered exactly what was needed for the students’ trades. Preparing new classes was a lot of work, as I had to review new textbooks and create all new lesson plans and exams. Those terms when I was able to repeat a class was especially nice as it was one less set of class lessons that needed to be prepared. 

The student body was mixed, ranging from teenagers straight out of high school to Vietnam vets seeking to get needed training to rejoin the workforce. One time I had a cocky young student come into my classroom brandishing a revolver in a holster on his belt. He claimed that he was deputized and could carry it. I was not convinced and requested that he leave it at home since it was needed in the classroom. I worked for every student’s success. My exams were not easy, and I expected students to learn the material. This was for their benefit as they wanted jobs when they got out of school, and I knew that every bit of the math I was teaching was necessary to their careers. Those who failed to pass my tests were offered up to two more make-up tests with us meeting one-on-one to help them learn the material. It was more work to make three tests for each exam, but I felt it was worth it. I also got involved volunteering my time at the adult literacy center, helping adults learn to read for the first time in their lives. 

After my first year of teaching, I learned that pay increases at state funded schools were determined by the state legislature, thus eliminating performance as a factor. I struggled with this, as I felt I had done a good job as a teacher, and that superior performance should be recognized and rewarded. But, alas, that was not the case in Indiana. I became dissatisfied with the pay arrangement and began to look for ways to leave Ivy Tech after two years. Despite my efforts, however, nothing came up, and I decided to remain for another year. This was a good decision as it turned out, for this decision was to teach me an important life lesson. I needed to learn to manage my expectations and be grateful for what I had. I certainly had a good quality of living, even if it meant I needed to room with others to afford my living accommodations.

In my third year of teaching, though, I had an epiphany. I realized I was teaching students the math skills they needed to apply in their trades, and it occurred to me that I also had learned valuable math skills and I could apply them. This fresh perspective opened my heart to moving forward, and I began to explore ways I could apply the math I had learned. I was now going someplace, not just getting out. This lesson followed me later in my career as I got into situations when I was not sure that I belonged.

The extra year in South Bend was a good one for me, filled with happy and life-learning experiences. When I finished my third year there, I was at peace. What happened next, though, changed my life.