Narkie and the Regents Exam

“Who was the best teacher you ever had?” is a most difficult question, not because I’ve had an excess of great teachers, but because the truly great ones I did have were so exceptionally talented and dedicated it’s very hard to pick just one individual. But if forced to make a single selection, it would be the late Tom Narkiewicz. He was incredibly gifted and had a heart few could match. He loved teaching, as much as he loved the kids he taught, even the jerks like me. I didn’t deserve a teacher half as good, but this made no difference to Mr. Narkiewicz.

We called him “Narkie” behind his back, but never to his face. None but the biggest of fools ever tried overt disrespect more than once in any class Narkie taught because the penalty was quick, absolutely inescapable, verbal execution.

 

Mr. Narkiewicz never raised his voice; he’d just cut the unfortunate culprit down to minuscule size when deserved with rapid-fire wit and elocution I’ve only seen in equal example from Robin Williams. Anyone who decided to cross Mr. Narkiewicz was made to look like an idiot in two sentences or less, but seldom, and this is key, angry, because Narkie was so doggone funny the offender would also laugh along with the rest of the class and realize the error of his ways, and that’s exactly what Mr. Narkiewicz intended. While playing a teacher in his great movie “The Dead Poets Society” Williams said, “I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing around you” and that was a big part of Mr. Narkiewicz’s style.

I don’t recall Mr. Narkiewicz ever sending anyone to the office. Actually a week in detention was way easier than facing the man in person and responding to his correction. If you were dumb enough, Mr. Narkiewicz would let you crack wise about almost anything, but that invariably led to the whole class laughing at his assessment and the banality of the original statement. Even the worst class clown bowed to the master. Because he could instantly command respect (but never once had to call for it) Mr. Narkiewicz ruled over all of us. He’d captured our hearts and minds so totally he could have talked us into setting fire to our feet. Instead, Mr. Narkiewicz just kept challenging us to jump higher, run faster, and think harder.

A typical movie script, however, would not portray a great teacher in Mr. Narkiewicz’s actual physical form, and in fact, his stature, voice, and mannerisms more closely resembled another great comedian, Don Knotts. Most remember Knotts as Deputy Barney Fife with his thin frame and squeaky voice. Knotts employed both deliberately to get a laugh, but voice and body were never any sort of a problem for Mr. Narkiewicz when he wanted to make a point or two. His brain and skill overrode any physical traits we’d usually try to exploit to our advantage.

Mr. Narkiewicz was no Barney; he was Andy times ten, a guy who could size up a situation in microseconds and process the data like a super computer. We were all in awe of his intellect, except for Mr. Narkiewicz himself, who didn’t want to be viewed from a throne and instead as one who encouraged the best of everyone, and almost always got it. In short, Narkie could teach a rock and definitely taught a lot of rock heads.

As for a more precise title, Mr. Narkiewicz taught business classes at CCS for many years. I had him for business law in 1972. Unlike most of my formal education, I remember much from his class and have lost track of the number of times in various business dealings over the years I profited from what I learned, not all of it business related. One of his best lessons was indirect, and that was showing mercy even when it isn’t deserved. Having just chronicled what I considered the worst thing a teacher ever did to me, it’s high time to show just the opposite, a time I was guilty of a great school crime that could have stopped two of us from graduating.

This lesson came about in the late spring of my senior year during high stakes testing known as Regents examinations. During Regents testing the stress at CCS mirrored that of a nuclear missile launch two seconds before zero count. Futures of both teachers and pupils rested on the results, and we all knew it, very serious business. The Regents could also be lifesavers in that when we took them, even if you had straight Fs for the course going into the exam, if you managed to pass the Regents test, credit would be given. This, as one might imagine, occasionally led to cheating.

At the time, I was often of the mind best described by one of my former education supervisors who described the worst student in our school by saying “That kid doesn’t care enough to cheat.” My six out of 100 score on the Trig Regents is a good piece of supportive evidence of my less than studious nature. Consequently, I was generally the last person anyone would seek as a source of exam information, but that is what happened, partially because of Mr. Narkiewicz’s fine teaching.

The best piece of evidence I have for saying Mr. Narkiewicz was a superlative teacher was his ability to get otherwise poor students like me to excel. I don’t remember my specific grade, but know it was good and better than all of my other grades. I went into the Regents exam fully confident it would be a breeze to pass as I actually did study and pay attention for a change, again completely out of character.

Still, even a miracle worker like Mr. Narkiewicz occasionally had a failing student, this particular one was also a close friend as well as a member in excellent standing of the “National Dishonor Society” of which I’ve made previous reference. My buddy and fellow low culture member approached me about helping him pass the business law Regents he had to get by to graduate, an offer I could not refuse, and at the time just the sort of thing I most aspired to, beating the system.

We developed what I thought was a very covert set of signals I’d send with my feet, a simple A, B, C, D based on foot position, absolutely undetectable, or so we figured. What we should have known, but didn’t, was trying to pull something over on a guy like Mr. Narkiewicz was completely beyond us. I have no idea what sort of radar he used, but he read us before I started to signal the answer to the second question. He could have invalidated both of our tests and definitely stopped my friend from graduating, and probably me as well. But he didn’t.

Ultimately, I guess Mr. Narkiewicz figured preventing two members of the National Dishonor Society from graduating because they attempted a stupid stunt wasn’t in our best interests, so he decided on another approach.

After giving us his famous, “You’re gonna die if you keep this up” stare which only Barbara Sherman could project with equal magnitude, again because she was an exceptional teacher, Mr. Narkiewicz positioned himself right in front of Cheater A to block any signals from Cheater B, not that I would have even thought about sending any more signals. We were both completely terrified and fully aware of the potential consequences. However, Mr. Narkiewicz never said a single word to either of us during or after the test. With simple body language alone he just made it perfectly clear the test results, whatever they might be, were going to be legitimate.

I have absolutely no memory of my score on the test, but my buddy passed it on his own with a 68 and went on to graduate with our class as I did as well. Mr. Narkiewicz would have been completely in the right to have flunked both of us, and may have risked his teaching license by not reporting us for trying to cheat. Regardless, he simply decided to scare the devil out two goofballs and insist that we use our own abilities to succeed. He had confidence in us, even if we didn’t, another mark of a great teacher.  As a student, teacher and administrator I have been blessed to know many excellent teachers, and a few great ones. Mr. Narkiewicz was one of the latter, perhaps the best I ever knew, and unquestionably a blessing to CCS and one terrible student as well.

As for the rest of my CCS educators, I’ve already mentioned a number of positive examples who I challenged at every step, people who left indelible impressions. Regarding my school experiences as a whole, I have no doubts today I was afforded a first rate education even though I often returned third rate results. Well, like they say, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink, unless you have exceptional talent and a powerful love for your “horses,” qualities Mr. Narkiewicz had in abundance. I will never forget him, and I’m sure this goes for many, many, others.