Maria de Melo Gulla

Hello:

Meeting Linda Cory Medeiros, our former classmate for dinner recently when she visited her daughter in Florida,  gave me the chance to rehash high school memories face- to- face with someone who shared some of them. This was something I hadn't done in forty- five years. Of course, favorite teachers came up in the conversation, and when I asked her if she remembered Miss Cohen's bookkeeping class, Linda  told me Ida Cohen had passed away a few years ago. I'll never be able to stand in front of her again, but through this remembrance, I want to share how much she still means to me.

Most people will remember many of their teachers, especially those who touched lives beyond high school graduation, true educators to whom the curriculum at New Bedford High School was just one tool to teach about life. I fondly remember Miss Ida Cohen, extraordinary bookkeeping teacher . She had a way of mixing classwork with her particular brand of humor. One day she said that she needed to see me and gave me a pass to come during her planning time. I was so scared! I arrived at the appointed time and she asked me why did I wear that particular shade of red lipstick. Miss Cohen explained it made me look old, twenty five or something. I told her the girls at Woolworth's on Purchase Street said it looked good, but she shook her head. Miss Cohen gave me three tubes of other colors to try. Then she said another thing that annoyed her was how I carried my books in front of my chest, walked with rounded shoulders, and looked as if I was scared and afraid. The dialog went something like this:

Miss Cohen: Young lady, you showed me you can post debits and credits.

Me: Thank you, Miss Cohen.
Miss Cohen: Yes, you could earn a living as a bookkeeper.
 

Me: I could?

Miss Cohen: But no one will hire someone who looks like they are hiding something. A bookkeeper has to look proud like she can be trusted, not afraid.

Me: Yes, Miss Cohen
.
Then she explained that I had to carry myself differently. She demonstrated how to stand up, lean over, pick up my books, which she said in the future could be files or anything else, place them at my waist, a little to the side and square my shoulders . We practiced, lean  and square. Then it was time for me to go to the next class. She gave me a whole planning hour. I didn't tell anyone about this meeting then, I was embarrassed. Decades later I saw "Legally Blonde," the movie. Can you imagine my amazement at the recognition of what Reese Witherspoon called the bend and snap technique? Well, the entertainment version is more exaggerated, but the sense of projected confidence is the same.

We saw the musical version of "Legally Blonde" in Ft. Lauderdale. The "bend and snap" was a big number and the audience loved it, but I was smiling and thinking of Ida Cohen and the interest she took in me teaching me to believe in myself. Oh, and by the way, I didn't work as a bookkeeper, but went on to become a teacher myself. I never thanked her in person, but perhaps the best thanks to her efforts is that when I look in the mirror, a more confident woman looks back.

Thank you, Miss Cohen
Maria de Melo Gulla