At Hebrew Day School of Sullivan County, Mrs. Rose Gibber, the vice-principal, was a legend. While our principal, Rabbi Goodman, was sugar and spice and all that was nice, Mrs. Gibber was the drill sergeant who kept schedules running, kids in line and the fear of Heaven in all of us. Her face lined with soft wrinkles, she was the school singing teacher and taught us Army marching songs, from The Halls of Montezuma to every anthem possible, pumping the pedals of the piano emphatically as she urged us to sing God Bless America "louder!"
Mrs. Gibber also served as the substitute teacher when no one else was around. There was always one recurring theme in her classroom. She loved the principle from Ethics of the Fathers, “Who is strong? He who conquers his inclination.” She would tell us the story of one tough boy who fought the urge to punch even when provoked. With awe in her voice, she'd say, “Now that was a strong boy.” We must have heard this story hundreds of times.
I was a short little thing, but what I lacked in height I made up in attitude. One year, in particular, was a trying one for all involved. My teacher was -- and I can now say this with the wisdom of age and experience -- insane. She had it in for me and knew no boundaries. It was a clash of wills between her and me each time she walked into the classroom. She banished me to the back of the room, apart from the other students. I tuned out, watching cloud formations outside the window or playing a desktop golf game that Alan Picker, a classmate, had creatively drilled into his desk. Not paying attention to the teacher meant failing tests she administered. At one point, the teacher asked me to have one failing test signed by my mother.
My mother, a former principal, expected her children to have the same thirst for scholarship as she had and demanded better grades than failing. The last thing I wanted was a showdown with my mother about my failed test. So with pen and an old test in hand, I traced my mother’s signature. My mother has a flowing, neat, artistic handwriting. My handwriting, however, produces misshapen script looking like tracks of chickens running around without heads. Let's just say my forgery attempt was less than stellar. Being a not-so-bright youngster I assumed this fact would be lost upon my teacher and confidently handed in my “signed” test.
“All the murderers at the maximum security prison started out with things like you did."
Did all fury break loose. “You know, Goldy,” said the teacher, “all the murderers at the maximum security prison started out with things like you did. You just started down the road to become them. You are evil! You forged your mother’s signature.”
Faced with such harshness, I had no choice but to continue the evil with a whopping lie. “My mother did too sign this paper.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, she did!” I insisted.
“Out of my classroom!" the teacher ordered. "Go to the office. I’ll be there after class and we’ll call your mother and ask why her signature doesn’t look like it usually does.”
Out the door I went, but not to the office. At this point I decided my life was rapidly coming to an end. I was evil, on the road to being the next serial killer. That didn’t scare me. But I was also on the way to being forced into a confrontation with my mother who is tough as steel. That scared me. I did not want to go home and deal with the after-affect of my forgery. Thinking the world as I knew it was coming to an end, nervous beyond words, I stood frozen in place right outside the classroom door.
Just then Mrs. Rose Gibber decided to patrol the hallways and came upon misbehaving-again-Goldy out in the hallway. “What are you doing out here?” she barked as she came closer.
In total panic, my hands, without my noticing it, shot out and began twisting the heavy gold fringe pendant Mrs. Gibber was wearing.
We were standing there in the hallway, and all words failed me. I couldn’t tell her anything because the phone call to my mother would then be one minute closer. I felt my stomach twist and heave from fear. I started to cry, and in total panic, my hands, without my noticing it, shot out and began twisting the heavy gold fringe pendant that Mrs. Gibber was wearing on her necklace. “Um… um…” I stammered, “my stomach hurts.” Even as I sobbed, my hands kept up its busy work twisting that pendant round and round and round.
Mrs. Gibber was not just a teacher of the principle of strength -- she was a disciple of it. Though my hands were tightly on her pendant, wrapping it round in circles, she never looked downward. Any other person might have pushed away my hands, or looked at them with raised eyebrows. Mrs. Gibber kept her eyes focused on mine, pretending not to notice. She continued the discussion calmly, ferreting out that more than my stomach was hurting, and that I had messed up again.
She handed me a tissue, put an arm on my shoulder and said kindly, "Come to the office and let’s see what’s going on." It was at this point, when I realized that I might still survive the ordeal, that consciousness began seeping in. Whoa! went my brain. My hands are on my vice-principal’s necklace. Drop it, Goldy! The shock of noticing what I was doing made me freeze and it took some time until my brain was able to send coherent messages to my hands to get them to work themselves off the necklace and dropped to my sides.
The rest of the story is rather anti-climactic -- the phone call, facing my mother, but with the warmth of Mrs. Gibber mellowing out the whole ordeal. Not surprising in retrospect, the confrontation with my mother was not as drastic as I had feared. My mother’s only point of contention was to get me to admit that I knew what I had done was wrong, and for me, from my own sense of morality, to assess the situation and explain how what I did was not the right thing. The teacher, for her part, must have been told to stop with the confrontations. We had an uneasy truce for the rest of the year. She ignored me and I returned the favor.
Mrs. Gibber taught me one of the most profound lessons in sensitivity and the importance of controlling our instincts to do everything possible to protect the dignity of people, even a misbehaving, obnoxious, little kid like Goldy. Rose Gibber practiced what she preached, becoming stronger than instinct, never once even glancing at something that might embarrass another person.
Now that was a strong woman.
(19) Tzvi Karp, September 23, 2011 2:43 AM
Mrs.Gibber was the ultimate frum english teacher
Lovely article !1 I went to both the old and new HDS.Rabbi Schneider zt"l made me frum and Rose Gibber z"l added to his work. Both my sons and myself are talmidim of her sons in Providence and Minneapolis. Her best quote? Gibbers aren't quitters
(18) ,, June 20, 2011 7:33 PM
Wow!
What a touching story!
(17) Chana Lebovits, February 21, 2011 1:55 PM
A very touching story, that will wake up memories of childhood in almosgt everyone. Children are vulnerable to all kinds of people who are in authority. One bad experience can be ingrained inthe psyche forever. i too had such a teacher, and I met her twenjty years later. She no longer instilled the fear, but I could not believe how pitiful she appeared to me.
(16) Sheri Hershfield Daar, December 1, 2010 2:36 PM
Curious
Hi, My name was Sheri Hershfield back in the early 80's and married Josh Daar. I knew Rose Gibber, from the hotel, in her 80s, and confused if this was an earlier story of her or another Rose Gibber, also related. I was a student at SCCC, and became part of the loving staff, leaving in 1984. I remember Abe and Rose, as mature people, along with their children Harold and Betty, Bashi (niece) and Jack Levine, and several rounds of grandchildren.
(15) Gail Steiner, November 3, 2010 10:08 PM
Once again Goldy Rosenberg has written a beautiful article. How fortunate were the students who had the privilege of having Mrs. Gibber (A.H.) as a teacher. Goldy's article shows us that she practiced what she preached...what a wonderful role model! Thank you Goldy for this inspiring story. There is so much brilliance in Pirkei Avot. My father (A.H.) always kept a copy on his night table next to his bed & that was his bedtime reading. His favorite was "Who is rich?" "He who is content with his lot!". Yasher Koach Goldy! Looking forward to your next article.
(14) , August 9, 2010 4:56 PM
Goldie, your tribute to Mrs. Gibber was wonderful and I thank you for your kind words about me. Somehow I don’t remember you to have been such a terror. I guess they protected you from me because we lived in the same town and I could see your mother often. You only touched the surface about Mrs. Gibber. Her passing was a blow to the Day School and as often as I think of her I mourn for her again and again. Nobody but I know what she meant to our school. Rose Gibber could never be replaced, she was a dynamo, nothing was too hard for her, she did not differentiate between day and night work days or holidays. The Hebrew Day School was foremost on her mind always. I hope that as other former students read these tributes to her they will correspond directly to us. We are compiling the email addresses of all of you and will be sending you info about the school. We hope you appreciate what the school did for you in the past and now you may show that appreciation to us today besides email addresses please send us mailing addresses and names and address of any students you in contact with. Rabbi Irving H. Goodman
(13) Debbie Brown, July 12, 2010 7:21 PM
A Good Scout
Although I didn't attend the Hebrew Day School, I grew up in Monticello and have fond memories of Rose Gibber z'l and her family from the Landfield Avenue Synagogue. I recall a story my Mom told me when one of Rose's sons joined the Cub Scout troop that she led many years ago. Unlike the other parents who raced out to purchase a uniform for their young boys, Rose's son had to 'earn' the uniform by demonstrating the behavior that was becoming of a scout. I'm sure it didn't take long for him to earn his uniform, but what a strong message he received from a very strong woman, indeed.
(12) Silky Pitterman, July 11, 2010 8:51 PM
Lovely story
Thank you so much for this picture of a great woman. I spent many summers in Sullivan County ("the Country"). My husband and I often went to Gibber's Hotel for the Motzai Shabbos show. I really enjoyed this story.
(11) Molly Rothstein, July 9, 2010 10:02 PM
Goldy! Your wonderful article had me smiling as I read it. If I remember correctly, oh those many years ago, I had Mrs. Gibber as a teacher for 3 years (!), before she became an administrator [I'm alot older than you:-)] We learned so many things, not just the spelling or vocabulary or social studies, but many life lessons as well: who can ever forget that “you can bring a horse to water but you can't make him drink..” so many songs remind me of Mrs. Gibber and choir to this very day (across the spectrum from 'Tzavei Tzavei' all the way to 'When You Walk through a Storm"). In keeping with the title of your article, I seem to recall Mrs. Gibber saying that “Strength” was her name for, after all, she was a “Gi’bor!” Thanks so much for the fond memories!! The Hebrew Day School still exists today, albeit sadly not as ‘populated’ as in days gone by – So to all HDS Alumni - stay/get in touch - they'd love to hear from every single one of you!
(10) Elisa, July 9, 2010 12:17 PM
Hebrew Day School of Sullivan COunty Needs Support!!!
I never knew Mrs. Gibber but heard of her. Hebrew Day School, a tiny little Jewish school in a big non-Jewish world, has struggled for YEARS to stay alive and bring Judaism INTO the minds and hearts of children from K to 8th grades. Working at very low wages, the Jewish teachers are selflessly devoted to each child's neshama. I schlepped my son 23 miles each way to go to HDS for 6, 7 and 8th grades (after seeing that public school posed too many risks) and credit Rabbis Goodman, Fruechter, Litt and the other Jewish teachers with giving him the first stones in a foundation for LIfe, as a Jew and as a mensch. He went on to yeshiva high school, away from Sullivan County (obviously), then time in Israel and now college; he has become a strong, kind and good young man. No other school in all of Sullivan County could have addressed the needs of his Jewish soul! Ditto Rabbi and Mrs. Chanowitz of Monticello's Landfield Avenue Synagogue.
(9) Miriam Rosen, July 8, 2010 2:14 PM
A Rose Among Thorns
I had the honor & privilege of knowing and working with Rose for a number of years while I lived in Fallsburg, NY. Her selfless & devoted contributions to the Day School, the Landfield Ave Synagogue and the surrounding communities will not be forgotten.
(8) , July 7, 2010 7:30 PM
I am a speech therapist who works in a school. I often see teacher frustrated with their students. (more often then not for a reason. And whenever i see a child upset I take them in my office and we talk. It usually takes a while but then, I try to get them to say that they are special and that it was their action that made their teacher upset not them. Some come back and tell me that it worked and that they have repaired the relationship with their teacher.
(7) Eliav, July 7, 2010 1:20 PM
Thanks
Thank you for a truly inspiring story. For someone working with kids, there's an awfully important lesson in there. I'll do my best to live up to the example.
(6) Raphaella, July 6, 2010 7:44 PM
I Learned There Too!
I started the Hebrew Day School in 1982. I remember Mrs. Gibber's music lessons but not much more than that. It was good to read about how special a person she was. I made aliya with my family in 1988. HDS has a very big part in who I am today. I wish I maintained contact with kids from our tight-knitted class... Anyone out there, by any chance?
(5) Shani Weiner, July 5, 2010 7:10 AM
I agree whole heartedly
I remeber Mrs. Gibber not only as my principal, but as a family friend. She could be stern, but also very loving and understandable. She is truly missed. And I remember that necklace that she wore all the time.
(4) Dena, July 4, 2010 5:55 PM
Great story
Whoa! What an amazing and inspirational story. It was so well written that I had tears in my eyes for that poor little Goldy who messed up. My heart really felt for you. And how inspirational to read about that special and wise woman who had the compassion to handle you right! I am going to try to remember this story as I continue my challenging parenting job! Reminds me about what there is to aspire to.
(3) Hindy Flom, July 4, 2010 5:14 PM
That was beautiful!!Thank you!!It gives me hope in education. She yirbu kmota b'yisrael!!
(2) Ellie Weiner, July 4, 2010 3:38 PM
Unbelievable woman
As one who knew her as a teacher of my children, community activist, fundraiser,shul member, member of chevra kadisha, and very good friend all I can say is the world would be so much more a better place if we had more Rose Gibbers Z'L'. She taught us all by her actions. We were all her students and learned a lot on how to live life by her examples.
(1) ruth housman, July 4, 2010 1:55 PM
the gold pendant
I find it interesting that your name is Goldy and that it was this teacher's Gold pendant that you kept twisting in your hand. It's quite possible there is a back story here, that has nothing to do with the strength of this woman and her ability to teach a lesson. The story might be her story that connects this pendant and what you did, to a moment of compassion in her life.