Refection Transcripts

Transcripts from some of the memories and reflections given at the Memorial Celebration are given below.

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By Kathy Richardson
Claire and Mac came into my life when I was seven.  Claire taught me to read and write and Mac taught me math, science and shop.  They babysat me and my siblings.  My class took field trips up to the beaver pond by their cabin.  My dad and I rode our horses to their house.  I have an entry in my diary dated Feb 21, 1964 recording Alice’s birth that reads: “Today Clair had a baby girl.  It was born at 12:30 and wieght about 6 pounds and 7 oz.” I was eleven.  Claire and Mac had been my teachers for four years.  I trace my love of school and especially my love of math to that time.  Diary entry, Friday, June 9, 1961: “Today school is over.  (picture of sad face)  I wish school was not over.  (picture of happy face)  I like homework, so Claire gave me a book.  (another happy face)” I treasure the childhood memories of my time with Mac and Claire.

Years later my children attended the little school in Westminster West beginning with the oldest in 1993.  They, too, were lucky to have Claire for first and second grade.  She created a safe and nurturing place for them.  She did the same for the adults as well.  Parents were welcome and encouraged to come to school.  The school was our true community center.  As a group we were able to do more for all of our kids.  Claire gathered us in and assumed we could do anything she set us to.  She got to know us, our strengths and weaknesses, our skills and interests.

Within a month of my oldest starting school I was cooking caramel apples for the fundraiser at Harvest Festival.  Later during the winter Claire called me, needing someone to help with the ski program.  She just needed an extra hand, someone who skied.  “For only a couple of times,” she said.  I went.  I had a great time.  I got to know a couple more parents, a few more of the kids.  Next, she found out I taught gymnastics and suddenly I was part of the PE program for a month that spring.  And that was just the first year.  More was to come.  Claire decided we should take a field trip to Puerto Rico.

In April of 1995 we boarded a plane with 20 students, 15 parents, 5 teachers, 2 community volunteers and one baby headed for Puerto Rico.  The students ranged in age from 6 to 14.  We were there for a week visiting the Escuela Modela.  We spent day and night with our hosts- visiting sights, going to school, eating, singing and sharing.  Students were paired up and had an overnight with their host family.  In January of 1997 we hosted the Puerto Rican families here in West West.  We spent months preparing; finding warm clothing, organizing food, trips and events.  Each Puerto Rican family stayed in a Vermont home, woodstoves and snow included.  Our kids were beyond studying different cultures; they were living it, the parents as well.  The exchange was repeated, us going to Puerto Rico and the Puerto Ricans coming, with a new set of kids in 2000.  This time Claire asked me to be the lead teacher for the trip.

Claire made these trips happen by making us, the parents, believe we could do what was needed.  She delegated tasks and responsibilities.  I know that it stretched me to meet and work with new people.  I found myself taking on responsibilities and managing tasks that I would never have guessed I could do.  I found my strength in the relationships and support that developed through working in the Westminster West School community that Claire had fostered.  And I did go on to successfully lead the trip in 2000!

Claire continued to draw me into the school with more projects, mostly math now as well as doing most of the subbing needed.  By the time my third child entered her classroom I was considering going for my teacher’s license and she encouraged me.  I spent a year at West West as the para-educator before getting a teaching job.  In the six years I spent in and around the Westminster West School, I learned and watched.  I soaked in the collegial and supportive atmosphere of the building.  Watching Claire, I began to understand the critical responsibility adults have in a child’s life.  Now, in my classroom I try to remember many lessons I learned in Claire’s classroom.

• Get to know each child: strengths, weaknesses, interests, skills, temperament
• Get to know the parents, include them, make them partners in the work of education
• Listen to the kids, let their voices be heard through their work
• Don’t be afraid to let kids struggle and strive for large things
• Create community within the classroom- kids learn a great deal from each other

Ultimately, I learned that being secure within their community is what allows our children to reach out to new communities around the world.  This was true for me as well.  Though the kids had two or three years with Claire before moving on.  It took me six years to learn what I needed to.  In those six years she mentored me by example, with her friendship and through her belief in me.  I learned many lessons about teaching but mostly about life.  I am fortunate to have known Claire and strive to carry on the lessons I learned from her into my classroom.

Diary entry dated June 5, 1961: “Today Kate came over.  We played school.  I was the teacher.  My name was Claire.  We had fun.”

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By Verandah Porche, August 22, 2009

CLAIRE OGLESBY: IN HER OWN WORDS
Note that her name contains no d, f, h, j, k, n, m, p, q, t, u, v, w, x, z

I. THE QUIZ: Words I learned by combining the letters of her name.

Aerogel: space-age material, “frozen smoke,”
used for catching the dust of comets.

Bricolage: building with what’s at hand;
a brick used as a hammer, from French, “to putter about.”

Cabriolet:  light horse-drawn carriage or coupe
with a retractable roof; from French, “to caper.”

Escolar: scholarly-looking, fast-swimming fish,
best digested in small doses; from Spanish.

Girasole: perennial sunflower,
the Jerusalem artichoke; from Italian.

Isobar: lines of constant barometric pressure
on a weather map. They may never touch or cross.

Lorica: body armor, also an incantation for strength
and protection  inscribed on it; from Latin.

Ocelli: simple eyes of invertebrates, or markings
that resemble eyes such as those on a peacock’s tail; from Latin.

Scry: a flock of wild birds; a clamorous group;
or, to predict the future using a crystal ball.

Yill: Scottish ale; or,
to chill thoroughly with one’s homies, from the Urban Dictionary

II. Flora and Fauna Galore

Flora: aloe, basil, borage, lilac, lily,
lobelia, obelia, oca, ragee, rye, sage, sago, scilla

Fauna: ai, albicore, ariel, beagle, bear. bee, bigeye,
boa, boar, cobra, corbie, corgi, crab, eagle, eel,
escolar, eyas, gar, gerbil, goa, goby, gorilla, grebe,
lice, loris, orc, orca,  rail, sargo, seal, sora

III. Her Choicest Anagrams

I clear; go be sly   Lilac, bees’ orgy
Lacier boy legs     Call beige rosy
Be regal cosily      Rebel so cagily
Care so legibly

IV . A Sibyl Gabs

Is soil a cell?  Are glaciers scree?
Is solace a geyser?  Is sea a sari?
Are oracles coy? Are cyborgs racy?
Is a siege a soirée?Are sabers cerise?
Is grace a carol or a corsage?
Are years a scroll or a Braille collage?
Is a sob a sacrilege? Are cobs cigars?
Is logic a relic, or bias, a scar?

O Claire, global as garlic, local as earlobes,
lyrical as celery, agile as escarole,
close as a boa, loyal as soy…

Ego is air. Age is clay.
Glee is glory. Yes is a legacy.

Yo! Ciao! Olé!

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An additional note from Verandah Porche. And a challenge.

“Thanks you for including me in your program. It is always an honor to be around your mom, the most down-to-earth diva I know.

…The words are here for other poets to take a crack at their own Claire oeuvre. There is so much
more to say.”

Download a pdf of the word list.

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By Beverly Major
Claire was truly a great teacher and a very good friend.

Her life became mixed in with mine (not only mine, I know) from the time we moved to Westminster West in 1965. The fact that she was the teacher here and the reputation that followed her was one factor in why we chose to settle in town. Later I became a teacher myself largely because of her encouragement.

Claire’s truest gift was her teaching. It rightly deserves becoming the stuff of legend. How she taught was not so much the result of book learning or pedagogy – but her own instincts. She loved children and valued every single one of them and they understood that. Her reaction to gifted education was that every child had a gift and a teacher’s job was to foster it.

Reading and writing were central and her methods were both her own and more effective then any program. Under her tutelage youngsters who experts declared would never be able to learn to read not only learned but grew to love it. Quite simply put, children learned to read by reading. By reading what they wanted to read, with some guidance as to level. The classroom was full of a variety of books. She monitored progress by having each child read aloud to her, sometimes pausing to discuss meaning. Writing was the flip side of reading. Children wrote every day, in journals, about whatever they wanted to write. They wrote stories, chapter books, reflective “essays.” At some point during the year she brought poetry into the mix, inviting a real grownup poet into the school to share work with the class and inspire the children to write their own poetry. Her pupils consistently ran away with honors in the Vermont State student writing contest.

School with Claire was not only the three R’s. It was exploring the woods behind the playground and building structures there. It was the arts – Claire loved the arts and invited artists and musicians in to perform and share their joy in their calling with the students. It was learning to work with wood in the workshop and with computers with her husband Mac.

What was most extraordinary about her teaching was her determination to have the children she taught grow up with respect, appreciation, and understanding of the wide variety of peoples and life experiences in the world. She made her students aware of the challenges of living with  disabilities. She challenged the whole school community by planning and carrying out a two way exchange with a school in Puerto Rico. And then there were the well known classroom immersion studies of other cultures, a different one each year. The best known was the year they studied India, with the classroom transformed into a temple – the year that was featured in the film “The World in Claire’s Classroom.”

One thing she could not abide about education was the bureaucracy that often comes with it. Testing, staff meetings, educational forms and evaluations, many administrators were all pieces of life she could do without. She was a master at “losing” undesirable pieces of mail. Most of the time the school ran her way, and since it was so successful by all measures and the children performed well, that was mostly tolerated.

Claire loved life and lived it well. She sought out beauty in the arts, fun companionship in other people, chances to satisfy her endless curiosity through travel and reading and museums. Even near the end we had plans to visit the Shaker Museum in New Hampshire on an all day excursion which medical issues kept postponing.

It was fun to be with Claire. She delighted in playing jokes on people. She would often pop in unannounced for supper and sometimes we would not even be home. On such occasions she would leave little reminders for use – a “note” from our chickens, revisions of her own invention of the annual Major Family summer chore list. She organized elaborate kids’ games at the Major extended family summer place in Maine. she and I would explore corners of coastal Maine together, read and compare books together. She would appear with hard puzzles and challenge everyone to get involved in putting them together. She could talk non stop and always seemed to know everything about everybody.

I have just come from the family place in Maine. For decades Claire has been there with us most years and this year she had seemed to be with me every step of the way – walking, shopping, at the beach, preparing meals, reading, talking. She has not gone away. Not Claire.

So, in the end, we must take from Claire what we love most about her – whether it be teaching, her love for life and her family, her laughter at convention, her strong opinions, her boundless curiosity, her enjoyment of the arts, her fascination with all people – and let that become part of our lives. then Claire will live on.

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A Scattering of Memories of Claire Oglesby by Mary Hayward
Claire was an inspiration to work with. She readily and generously shared her knowledge and expertise. She was a person from whom I learned a great deal; she was a mentor. She was also a born teacher and educator relating with ease and deep understanding to kids. She delighted in the growth of our students’ language and thoughts. I was in awe as I worked with her and beside her for seventeen years.

Every day was an adventure at Westminster West School. You knew the basic schedule but what happened within that framework was shaped and orchestrated by Claire.

Everyone was welcome. Each morning there was a gaggle of parents in Claire’s room giving rise to many conversations. Through these she developed a deep and extensive knowledge of the parents, their children, and the community, thereby positioning the school at the very heart of our community.

She strove tirelessly to expand the horizons of our students by bringing in visitors from all walks of life and from mnay countries to share their experiences.

Each year we studies a different country – Japan, India, Mexico and beyond. The children made books about each country and the completion of these books was always down to the wire. On set of books – they were about Japan if I remember correctly – didn’t quite get finished in time and sat in a box in the kitchen for several years, their presence remarked upon now and then. I’m not sure if the students who made them ever recieved them as they had long sice moved on to the Center and Middle Schools.

Claire kept everything. She could not throw things away. Things were invariably lost or mislaid and we were always looking for something of other. The best lost and found story gathered around a piece of paper with a telephone number on it which days later turned up in on e of Claire’s shoes, its discovery greeted with much hilarity.

In the week or so after she retired she sat on the sofa in her classroom surrounded by boxes upon boxes of papers, art work and books. She went through every single piece of paper in every box recounting anecdotes about the kids as their work surfaced from the pile.

Claire was center stage. She was the main act. Lois, Kathy, Nancy, myself and all the others who helped at the school over the year – we were the back stage crew.

We were also listeners. Claire loved to talk. I remember many an hour-long phone conversation, and many conversations of much longer duration after school standing in the hallway as we were about to leave.

Claire was never neutral. She always had an opinion.

Claire had what seemed to be inexhaustible energy, always exploring, always trying out new ideas. Above all she was fascinated by people as she drew everyone into her orbit; she was endlessly curious.

And, she was always ready to accept an invitation.

Always on the go to meetings, to friends’ homes to performances, to swim at Lily Walsh’s pool, carrying news with her from place to place.

Her passing leaves a huge hole in the fabric of our community, but a rich and abiding store of memories.

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For Claire by Tim Cowles
Claire’s family asked me if I would like to speak and I hope to live up to that honor.

How appropriate that we are in a school to talk about Claire.

When I first met Claire, she reminded me of a teacher I had in the 5th through 7th grades. Her name was Jeanette Andrews and my parents, with about five other families recruited her from New York City to start a private school in Burlington much like the Grammar School. She was particularly good at teaching English and years later, when I realized what a gift she had given me, I looke dher up and wrote her a letter of appreciation. We have been exchanging essays and poems ever since.

Our son, Dee-Jai, was a student of Claire’s for the last two years she taught. Without realizing it at first, I also became a student of Claire’s. She taught me that the tiny, two-room schoolhouse that I hardly noticed before Dee-Jai was born, was the real heart of our community. Through her and the school, I met many of the other members of my community and I learned what a fine place I live in.

Claire also drew me into the classroom. I showed the kids a microscopic world through the lenses of the school’s binocular microscope. I wrote poetry with Verandah Porch. I coached bicycle safety, and occasionally read stories aloud. In those two years, we took trips to the Shelburne Museum, to Cape Cod to watch whales, and to Montreal to experience French-Canadian culture. Oh the foreign languages that sometimes swirled around in that classroom. When Dee-Jai moved on to the Westminster Center School, things were not the same. Dee-Jai eventually had to plead with me not to accompany him to his classroom to greet teachers; that it was normal to just drop kids off in front of the building and drive away.

As much as Dee-Jai appreciates the gifts that Claire has given him, he will no longer have the opportunity to exchange poetry with her. Nor will I any longer be able to offer her a new painting to try out on her wall and hear stories. But Dee-Jai will forever carry the gifts of her teaching with him, and I will forever have the community, both local and global that she introduced to me.

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by Waew Cowles
Claire and I have a few small common interests; dolls, teddy bears, and jigsaw puzzles among them. In thinking about her and missing her I keep getting this thought that Claire’s approach to dealing with the world, with us, with her students is very much like doing a jigsaw puzzle. In doing the jigsaw puzzle you treat every single piece as important. Every piece is equally important. In Claire’s classroom, every student is equally important disregard of their differences in ability. Claire also can make you feel you are important, and you are valued as  you are. One way she does it is by getting you to do things, lots of different things, good things. And when you do it you end up feeling good about yourself too. It happens to me. She asked me to come tell stories to the kids in her classroom. I did and realized my hidden story-telling ability which I later developed further. Even little tasks she asked me to do, she makes me feel important. I helped her make and sew simple buttons on her knitted sweater once. She watched me work and marveled at the result as if i did some million-dollar art work for a museum or helped her solve a very important knitting problem. The felt good. She asked me to accompany her into the MRI chamber to be with her, she talked to me about the medical stuff as if I was a qualified medical person which I am very honored to be asked. I introduced her to coco nibs (shaved coco bean without sugar) she makes me feel as if I was a nutritionist and she would ask me about food. Claire makes me feel I am an important piece in the jigsaw puzzle. She too is an important piece. Thank you Claire for being on the jigsaw puzzle board of my life. I miss you a great deal.

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