Teachers matter. I had the good fortune of having the most demanding teacher one could imagine for 11th and 12th grade English. Mrs. Corinne Guild, who I mentioned in a previous column, was both an anomaly and an enigma. She spent September through May in Jackson, Mississippi. When the school year ended, Mrs. Guild would load up her car and drive to Nova Scotia, where she stayed until the beginning of the next school year.
Mrs. Guild had a reputation for being tough on her students. I knew that largely because she had taught English and Latin to all three of my siblings (Rodney, Hilda, & Nancy). She was disappointed that I didn’t take Latin, so much so that one day during a writing time in Senior English she turned her thoughtful gaze from the school yard to me. (My desk was directly in front of hers.) She stared with scrutiny and great intensity, with the temple tip of her glasses at her bottom teeth, and asked, “Weeks. Why didn’t you take Latin? Rodney took Latin. Hilda took Latin. Nancy took Latin. Why didn’t you take Latin?” I gave the greatest comeback I’ve ever had. “Mrs. Guild, I didn’t take Latin because Rodney took Latin, Hilda took Latin, and Nancy took Latin.”
Mrs. Guild made us memorize, memorize, memorize. We memorized Shakespeare. We memorized Chaucer. We memorized Wordsworth and numerous others. I was good at it and I relished the challenge.
My classmates and I revolutionized Madison-Ridgeland High School’s image of Mrs. Guild. Before us many had perceived as callous and aloof. But some of us picked up on something else that drew us to her. After out-of-town football games a group of us would often drop by her house on Quinn Street in the Belhaven district of Jackson. The first time was a total surprise to her, made obvious by the quizzical look on her face.

Mrs. Guild invited us in and we sat around chatting and telling stories. We even teased her a bit. Mrs. Guild was known to take a sip every now and then and we discovered her stash while looking for water glasses. We dropped thinly-veiled comments about it which seemed to tickle her. She laughed. She laughed a lot! When I told my brother about our visits he was aghast. “Mrs. Guild? Y’all just go to her house and joke around?” Yep. Yes we do. I have often wondered what Mrs. Guild thought about it all. I’d like to believe that the little girl inside her was delighted.
Mrs. Guild gave me a love for oxymorons, redundancy, paradoxes, malapropisms, spoonerisms, puns, and other word play—a love I share with my good friend, Leon, a very inciteful man. I also notice gross spelling errors like the 16-wheeler trailer just off Highway 6 at West Jackson. For years a slogan painted on it said, “Get the Goverment out of the UN.” It’s painted over now. Mrs. Guild also liked to point out our Deep South pronunciations. Once a student called a dog a “dawg”. Mrs. Guild spat off “I took my dawg to see a frawg on a lawg in the fawg.”
Mrs. Guild turned me into an intolerant grammarian. Misplaced modifiers drive me up the wall, or make me burst out with laughter. Saying “less” rather than “fewer” or vice versa annoys me. It bothers me to no end to hear people say “I feel” when they speak of their thoughts instead of “I think.” Fast food restaurants often sell drinks in medium and large sizes. You can’t have medium and large without small. But don’t point that out. I did that once. The cashier said, “We have medium and large.” I ordered a small. They put my drink in a kiddie cup.
Mrs. Guild was a one of a kind teacher who made a difference for me and hundreds of others. We found a wonderful side of her that few knew, which made her dear to us. Teachers, keep your standards high and let some of your personality show. You can do it. Mrs. Guild proved that to me.
Now, let us quote a bit of Chaucer, if you can.
Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licóur
Of which vertú engendred is the flour…
…and that’s The View from The Balcony.
Randy Weeks is a Licensed Professional Counselor, a Certified Shamanic Life Coach, an ordained minister, singer-songwriter, actor, writer, and a former triathlete. He may be reached at: randallsweeks@gmail.com.
