ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times

DATE: Tuesday, May 28, 1996                  TAG: 9605280083
SECTION: VIRGINIA                 PAGE: C1   EDITION: METRO 
DATELINE: MONETA 
SOURCE: JOANNE POINDEXTER STAFF WRITER


TEACHING ON THE CUTTING EDGE

AGRICULTURE EDUCATION TEACHER Diane Poole runs her classes as though they were a business by outlining for her students the skills they must learn and what she expects from them.

No one in Diane Poole's classes likes "writing a George."

That's the punishment dished out to students Poole hears cursing in her agriculture education classes. Offenders have to write out Gen. George Washington's July 1776 order against the use of profanity.

Poole's students would rather not write the order, so bad language is not something you hear amid the exhaust fans, electric saws, hammering and welding tools in Poole's classes.

Poole, Bedford County's teacher of the year, started using the order as punishment a few years ago because "I wanted to make sure they understand that profanity is not tolerated at school or on the job."

The students - not Poole - tell visitors about writing a George.

In his 103-word order, Washington said he was "sorry to be informed that the foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and swearing" was becoming popular among his men.

Profanity, Washington wrote, was a "vice so mean and low, without temptation, that every man of sense and character detests and despises it."

In addition to its disciplinary purpose, Poole says, the order helps teach history and English, and she explains its background at the beginning of each school year.

Every year she has a few nonbelievers, but "I don't have many repeat offenses. ... If I collect five or six paragraphs from one student, I turn him into the office.

"They dislike writing it so much that I just don't hear" profanity, says Poole, who has about 80 students in her classes each day.

Only once has a student cursed in Poole's presence and refused to write a George. Because that "child defied authority by not doing what was expected," Poole sent him to the office. He returned to her class, apologized and had to write a George twice.

It's such an effective deterrent, Poole says, that other Staunton River teachers are beginning to use it.

Diane Poole runs her classes at Staunton River High School as though they were a business.

She outlines for her students the skills they must learn and what she expects from them. She wants them to imagine themselves as potential employees.

Their on-the-job training includes operating handtools and small machines on wood and metal. They also have to go through job interviews, write resumes, and learn how to greet and work with customers and co-workers.

They have to keep records, learn to manage money, know parliamentary procedure and be able to deliver a speech.

Many of them also learn about raising livestock. And since Poole raises ewes on the side, they learn about shearing sheep.

"As a student at [Virginia] Tech, I was required to take a mechanics class. Half of the school year revolves around the skills I learned there," says Poole, who teaches agriculture business, production and mechanics.

Virginia has 32,000 students in grades six through 12 taking agriculture education courses. About 15 percent of the state's 300 ag ed teachers are women, and Poole is proud to be "the only female ag ed teacher in Bedford."

Virginia has a demand for ag ed teachers because it loses them to private industry quickly, says Glenn Anderson, a state Department of Education specialist for agriculture education. About 25 ag ed teachers leave the profession each year; their replacements mainly come from out-of-state because Tech and Virginia State University are the only state schools to offer degrees in agriculture education.

Agriculture education, Anderson says, is the oldest vocational program taught in the schools. Because it covers so many fields, agriculture education teachers have to have knowledge in many different fields, including animal and plant science, economics, mechanics and computer operations.

An Augusta County native, Poole grew up near the McCormick Farm, Virginia Tech's research center at Steele's Tavern. Her father manages the farm, so when she got ready for college, she picked Tech to study animal science.

She dropped out of college her junior year because she felt she needed some hands-on work and worked with sheep.

After returning to Tech, she did student teaching in Wytheville; she had such a good experience that she ended up earning a double major in animal science and agriculture education.

Poole says it's no accident that she's at Staunton River and has been there 12 years.

"I really mean I'm here because I'm supposed to be here. For some of these children, I'm really Mama Poole. God wants me here. I know this; that's all I need to know. My life has been enriched by knowing these folks."

She says she has good students, and "it's very fulfilling what I do."

Poole teaches the "kind of classes we are going to apply to our everyday life," Kevin Gresham said.

Eric Spradlin said Poole's classes helped him learn how to manage money.

"I tell them at the start, `You have to work hard to fail my class,'" Poole says matter of factly. "They know when it's time to assign grades, I know who's working."

Co-worker Wayne Stephenson says Poole is very motivated. "She tries to build a good rapport with students. She's very interested in their problems other than here."

Poole and Stephenson are advisers of the Future Farmers of America club, and Poole asks that all of her students participate on club committees even if they don't join the club. Through committee work, she says, students learn leadership skills and in some cases qualify for scholarships.

A couple of days after she was named teacher of the year, Poole, wearing a green apron with pencils sticking out of a pocket, was back in shop, squaring two-by-sixes for a picnic table and helping to hold the wood steady while students hammered in nails.

About five minutes before the end of class, Poole grabbed a broom and helped students sweep sawdust off the floor.

"I enjoy a clean house. It just doesn't happen right now," says Poole, who rises about 5 most mornings to work with her sheep and get to school by 8.

Later, she laughs, "I don't do anything on my house. We have clean clothes and a dishwasher."

Besides her classes, Poole presents workshops at teachers' seminars and teaches Sunday school. She and her husband, William K. Poole Jr., also farm.

Her husband, she says, is supportive and helps a lot with Hannah, 4, and Levi, 7. Plus, she adds, "I have a good baby-sitter."

She also has student helpers. Kevin Gresham was going to be a teacher until he started volunteering as a firefighter. He still, however, comes in during Poole's sixth period class to help in the shop.

Gresham says a lot of what Poole teaches is leadership. And, "you can talk to her about anything ... school or not ... I talk to her about girls," Gresham said.

He then paused, "If she can put up with us, she deserves" to be teacher of year.


LENGTH: Long  :  129 lines
ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO:   WAYNE DEEL STAFF Bedford County's teacher of the year, 

Diane Poole, helps student Anna Settle change a bit on a router.

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by CNB