Why I Still Teach: Marianne Michailow Reflects on 42 Years in the Classroom

Each year, before students return to campus and another school year officially begins, Renbrook faculty and staff gather for Opening Meetings. Among the conversations about goals, programs, and the year ahead is a beloved Renbrook tradition that asks two faculty members to reflect on a deceptively simple question:
Why do you teach?
This year, longtime mathematics teacher Marianne Michailow was among those invited to share her answer. In addition to teaching mathematics, Marianne is Grade 8 Coordinator, MATHCOUNTS Coach, and Yearbook Advisor.
Her first reaction, she admitted with characteristic humor, was some hesitation. Public speaking was not exactly how she envisioned spending part of her summer. But as she began thinking about the question, another occurred to her. After 42 years in education, perhaps the real question was not Why do I teach? It was Why do I still teach?
A Teacher Long Before She Knew It
For Marianne, the answer begins well before her first classroom. Growing up in Watertown, Massachusetts, her earliest “student” was her younger brother, Jackie, seated in his highchair while Marianne played school in the family cellar and taught him his ABCs and 123s. Looking back, she wonders if those childhood lessons offered her first glimpse of something that would become central to her life: the joy of helping another person understand something new.
Marianne loved school herself. She attended Saint Patrick’s School from Grade 1 through Grade 12 and remembers those years with great affection. But an unexpected discovery among her old report cards recently reminded her that her own path as a mathematician was not as effortless as she had remembered.
She had always thought of herself as naturally good at math. Her report cards told a somewhat different story. Until about sixth grade, she was fairly average. And word problems? Those were her nemesis. It was in seventh and eighth grade that something changed. Two teachers, Miss D’Angelo and Sister Evelyn Catherine, helped Marianne begin to see herself differently. They were remarkably different educators.
Miss D’Angelo created a collaborative classroom decades before approaches such as Building Thinking Classrooms had names. She moved desks, had students work together, invited them to the board, encouraged them to explain their thinking, and valued the process of mathematics rather than simply arriving at the correct answer. Math was fun, and Marianne was hooked.
Sister Evelyn Catherine was more traditional. She was strict but fair, with high expectations for her students. She expected Marianne to work hard and made it equally clear that she would do everything she could to help her succeed. Together, they taught Marianne a lesson that has stayed with her throughout her career:
There is not just one way to be a great teacher.
Different styles, personalities, and approaches can all reach students when they are grounded in challenge, support, and a genuine belief in what young people are capable of becoming.
The Moment When It Clicks
By high school, classmates were coming to Marianne for help with math. Her older brother sought her assistance with college algebra. A friend of her sister credited Marianne with helping her make it through nursing school and continued to recognize her during Teacher Appreciation Week for years afterward.
Marianne discovered that she loved the moment when a concept that had seemed impossible suddenly made sense. Teachers know that moment well. It is the pause, followed by the change in expression and the words, “Oh, now I get it.”
At Renbrook, that belief is reflected in mathematics classrooms where students are encouraged to reason, collaborate, solve problems, explain their thinking, and develop confidence in themselves as mathematicians. But Marianne’s reflections make clear that teaching has never been only about mathematics for her. It is about what happens to a child while the mathematics is being learned.
The Relationships That Remain
Over more than four decades of teaching, Marianne has received countless notes from students and parents. She has saved every single one. They remind her that the lasting impact of a teacher is rarely confined to the content of a lesson.
Teaching is about the relationships educators build. It is about helping students discover confidence they did not know they possessed. It is about creating an environment where children feel supported enough to struggle, stretch, take a risk, make a mistake, and try again.
Sometimes teachers are fortunate enough to see where those moments lead. Marianne is still in contact with many former students, and three of her former students have even become colleagues. She describes the experience of working alongside students she once taught as both humbling and deeply rewarding.
Another former student, who went on to double major in mathematics and physics at Wesleyan University, contacted Marianne after completing his senior thesis. He had included her in his dedication, recognizing the teachers who nurtured his love of learning and crediting Marianne with helping ignite his interest in mathematics. For a teacher, it was a rare glimpse into the lasting influence of work done years earlier.
As Marianne reflected, teachers do not always get to see the full impact they have on their students. Children spend a year, or perhaps several years, in their classrooms and then move forward. Teachers hope something they taught, said, encouraged, or believed made a difference. Every once in a while, they get to find out.
When Love Is at the Center
While reading Renbrook’s summer book, Theo of Golden, Marianne encountered a passage built around a simple idea: for something to be truly good, “there must be love in it.”
She immediately thought about teaching.
Because for Marianne, there has always been love at the center of the work.
- Love for the students sitting in front of her.
- Love for the subject she teaches.
- Love for the colleagues who have shared the journey.
- Love for the families who have entrusted their children to her.
- And love for the community created together.
That sentiment resonates deeply at Renbrook, where strong relationships are fundamental to how children learn. Students are known as individuals, challenged to grow, encouraged to ask questions, and supported as they develop the confidence, knowledge, character, and curiosity to become lifelong learners.
“I Still Love Going to School”
When people ask Marianne where she works, she tells them she teaches at Renbrook. But “going to work” has never quite been how she thinks about it. She goes to school.
School has been a source of purpose, friendship, challenge, laughter, belonging, and joy since she was a little girl in Watertown. It is where teachers first helped her discover who she could become, and it is where she has spent a career doing the same for generations of students.
Forty-two years later, the reasons remain remarkably clear. “I teach because I love that moment when a student suddenly looks up and says, ‘Oh, now I get it.’”
“I teach because every student deserves someone who believes in them.”
And perhaps most simply:
“I teach because after all these years, I still love going to school.”
That may be the most fitting answer of all.
At Renbrook, Bringing Learning to Life begins with teachers who believe deeply in their students, who find joy in learning alongside them, and who understand that what happens between teacher and student can last far beyond a single school year.
For Marianne Michailow, 42 years have passed quickly. And she still cannot imagine being anywhere else.




