So sad to have learned this news today.
Mr Moss was my primary school teacher for 4th and 5th year, 1986 to 1988, at the European School in Luxembourg.
He took our learning seriously, but he made it _fun_. Other teachers, before him and since, seemed like stuffy authoritarians in comparison.
If we finished our work early, he'd let us play The Hobbit on the computer in the far corner of the classroom, until the bell rang.
He created a mini library in the same corner, and stocked it with books for us to borrow. The sort that young children enjoy reading in their spare time, like fantasy and sci-fi stories.
In gym, we'd play 'Moss Ball' - his rules.
Mr Moss even gave discipline a funny side. A few of us (including me) were unruly sometimes, and would get up in class without permission. He’d catch us and give us lines to write at home as a punishment.
But how did we know when we were busted? He’d start singing the song “A Wand'ring Minstrel I”, from the comic opera The Mikado! And we’d have to write out the lyrics to the song, 100 times or more (if we didn’t, the number doubled).
Mr Moss was also delightfully subversive. At the end of our last year, he invited our class to a barbecue at his farmhouse in the Luxembourg countryside. He told us to bring our old exercise books. At the party, he lit a large bonfire in the courtyard… and we burned all the books on it with glee.
I asked him what the hell we were doing. “You won’t need them,” he said, pointing to his head. “You’ve got it all up here.”
Next September, my son will start his fourth year of primary school. If the teacher he gets is half of what Mr Moss was, he will be lucky.
RIP, Mossy, and THANK YOU.
So sad to have learned this news today.
Mr Moss was my primary school teacher for 4th and 5th year, 1986 to 1988, at the European School in Luxembourg.
He took our learning seriously, but he made it _fun_. Other teachers, before him and since, seemed like stuffy authoritarians in comparison.
If we finished our work early, he'd let us play The Hobbit on the computer in the far corner of the classroom, until the bell rang.
He created a mini library in the same corner, and stocked it with books for us to borrow. The sort that young children enjoy reading in their spare time, like fantasy and sci-fi stories.
In gym, we'd play 'Moss Ball' - his rules.
Mr Moss even gave discipline a funny side. A few of us (including me) were unruly sometimes, and would get up in class without permission. He’d catch us and give us lines to write at home as a punishment.
But how did we know when we were busted? He’d start singing the song “A Wand'ring Minstrel I”, from the comic opera The Mikado! And we’d have to write out the lyrics to the song, 100 times or more (if we didn’t, the number doubled).
Mr Moss was also delightfully subversive. At the end of our last year, he invited our class to a barbecue at his farmhouse in the Luxembourg countryside. He told us to bring our old exercise books. At the party, he lit a large bonfire in the courtyard… and we burned all the books on it with glee.
I asked him what the hell we were doing. “You won’t need them,” he said, pointing to his head. “You’ve got it all up here.”
Next September, my son will start his fourth year of primary school. If the teacher he gets is half of what Mr Moss was, he will be lucky.
RIP, Mossy, and THANK YOU.
