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The Legacy of Miss Rice

The Legacy of Miss Rice

I could not possibly list all the women who have made a positive impact on my life, but I’d like to tell about the first one. Emily Rice, my senior high school English teacher.

Miss Rice was a tall, slender, soft-spoken woman with graying hair neatly braided and wrapped around her head. She taught at Peoria High for twenty-seven years. But in the 1930s when she’d first applied for a teaching job, it was not easy to get hired. Even a degree from Smith College and her experience with teaching immigrants were not enough credentials to overcome the difficulties of the Great Depression.

But once she became part of the faculty, parents and students began praising her work. It was easy to understand why. Sitting in her class of ’56, she’d brought Shakespeare’s Macbeth to life for me, explaining the structure and meaning. It lit a fire!

We memorized the first few stanzas of Canterbury Tales in “Olde English” but she warned us that it would be with us forever. She was right. When the parents of many of her students would go back for Open House, they wouldn’t greet her with, “Hello Miss Rice.” They’d just smile and say:

Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;

In perfect Olde English!

Emily Rice passed on before I had a chance to go back and recite those words. And before I had a chance to tell her how much she and her class had meant to me. But obviously I wasn’t the only one touched by her. Every year at commencement ceremonies, the Emily Rice Award is presented to the most outstanding graduating senior. Her legacy lives on.

So, Miss Rice, wherever you are, from my heart . . . Thank you!

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