Mrs. Haskell

She was prim and proper and perfection, always impeccably coiffed and wore little makeup beyond lipstick. She dressed like a professional on Madison Avenue, every day, in a black or khaki pressed skirt, neutral blouse, a blue blazer with gold broach, and polished, understated, sensible shoes. Mrs. Haskell was a tiny woman, couldn’t have been more than 5’5” but stood like a giant teaching English Literature, commanding a sea of hormone-crazy seniors like we were rowers in a galley on a Roman warship in one of the pieces we studied. The one I remember best is “Julius Caesar,” and I can still recite some of the famous lines. She knew every nuance in that play and by the time we were done, so did we. She loved “Julius Caesar” and through her eyes, we loved it, too. Mrs. Haskell, take a bow. You were an amazing teacher!