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Ross had taken to teaching like a duck to a country dam, full of noise, splash, and a sense of destiny disguised as play. The classroom, to him, wasn’t a box for rote and regulation. It was a living, breathing organism, part chalk dust, part imagination, part controlled rebellion. He refused to let it sit still.
By Michael HoldingRoss had taken to teaching like a duck to a country dam, full of noise, splash, and a sense of destiny disguised as play. The classroom, to him, wasn’t a box for rote and regulation. It was a living, breathing organism, part chalk dust, part imagination, part controlled rebellion. He refused to let it sit still.