Dr. Teter Had the Invaluable Quality of Making it Easy to Ask Questions

38 years ago I showed up at Plattsburgh State to major in Computer Science. I did well in a high school programming course but had no idea if I had the intellectual capacity to write code in college. Short of that, I had no backup plan, and the future seemed insecure.

18 years old, with the expectation of being able to stand in as an adult, I was scared. However, I did quickly navigate beyond the fear of being away from home for the first time. College was pretty damn pretty cool I realized ten minutes after my parents made for the exit. But that only added more anxiety since the party I found in Plattsburgh was something I wanted to be part of for as long as possible.

I bought my books and started to read up on the basic tenets of Pascal. Attempting to ascertain if this was something I could do, I was just spinning the ball bearings of my anxiety faster.

No matter, I was soon introduced to CSC 223 and Dr. William Teter. Around 30, he was a youthful looking but not to the point where he seemed a student. Also in his first year at Plattsburgh, his demeanor came off as very approachable.

In this, the enthusiasm Dr. Teter displayed came across as a young man about to embark on an adventure. He was obviously taking on the unknown far better than me.

I likely took some comfort in his optimism, but not enough to calm the RPM's digging a hole in my existence. The proof would only come when I successfully scrolled the right answers across the Burroughs B-6800 in my first programming assignment.

It turned out I did not give enough weight to my initial inclination of Dr. Teter. I wasn't the only one. Others would also not only misappropriate the importance of this inquisitive exuberance but got bogged down in what would have to be considered a weakness.

In other words, Dr. Teter would frequently interrupt his delivery, rifle through his notes and leave himself looking like the absent minded professor. Likable enough in poorly thought out comedies but not so much as your first college professor. Of course, he would always gather himself and be back on track before realizing he was probably right the first time.

Luckily, I'm about as organized as a pack of wild dogs without an alpha, so his imperfection gave me something I could relate to and easily overlook. The haughty among me probably weren't as fortunate. The same was probably true of all those who would suffer the attrition of entering a field because there was money in it.

Either way, they missed the obvious before them. Dr. Teter's genuine joy in being part of his students' growth translated to the most important characteristic any teacher could have. Accessibility to his students means everything. So for me, there was never an ounce of hesitation to stop his lecture mid sentence and ask a question.

Thus, Dr. Teter was invaluable for grasping those introductory concepts, and I was on my way. Of course, if his named appeared with the next semester's requirements, hesitation again did not come into play.

That amounted to five total courses and ended with graphics programming in my senior year. Over that time, he certainly knew my strengths as a programmer and a weakness I never overcame. You put the very same idea in front of me on a test, and I came up blank. As a result, my grades were never that good, but Dr. Teter knew I could program

That said, it's just suddenly became suspicious to me how my final course unraveled. The graphics programming final group project assigned each student a specific function in the display of a railroad system. The subsequent final exam was then meant to show each student knew the function of all the other parts. The only way to do that was mastering an hour long oral exam in Dr. Teter's office.

A scenario that probably would have killed me. Instead, I simply posed a question to my professor. Do I even need to show up?

His response : "Come by, we'll talk."

I wasn't capitulating in light of my test taking ability. But because as the student who wrote the code that called all the other subroutines, the project could not have worked unless I thoroughly understood the entire thing.

This also meant I did the majority of the programming. I had always thought I randomly lucked into this part, but if he was playing to my strengths, well played Dr. Teter.

So we smoozed for a few minutes in his office, and I told him, I had a good time in Plattsburgh but was sad to be leaving. He did not diminish my sentiment or attempt any worldly advice. "I'm glad you've had a good time. That's great," Teter beamed.

Simple but it hit the spot. I went on to work a few jobs in my field, but always knew Computer Science was over my head. Now I'm a writer, I love my profession, and I'm pretty good at it.

It might seem then that all these efforts were of no consequence. I don't look at this way. I've written 2000 line programs. I've cursed out code, put holes in walls and even punched a CRT screen blank with my fist. But nothing was ever going to stop me from getting the answer.

So you develop that kind of persistence and everything after is easy. A quality that's pretty good for me, but I'm not the only one who benefited.

My many editors have always been impressed and relieved with my ability to turn stories around well before any deadline. On the other hand, had I not had Dr. Teter welcoming my confusion, maybe I'm just another writer slogging through my prose and giving editor fits as the presses need to role.

So Thank you Dr. Teter

Please Like My Page on Facebook

Plattsburgh Slideshow 1

Plattsburgh Slideshow 2

Plattsburgh Slideshow 3

Plattsburgh Slideshow 4