Departments : Publisher’s Memo :

...the last of May

I hope the title of this month's memo piqued your curiosity. It's based on a story Dr. Lola May included in her often hilarious and consistently candid autobiography, published in 1992 (more on that story in a moment). In the book, and pulling no punches, Lola kept her readers gasping and laughing from cover to cover.

Dr. Lola J. May

Dr. Lola J. May

Lola died on March 13, 2007 – a date, as her friend Shirley Frye was quick to point out (only math geeks think like this) that consists of prime numbers.

Shirley, a former president of the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics (NCTM) coauthored math textbooks with Lola and was her closest friend.

But Lola was not only Shirley's friend; she was also the friend of thousands, including Patricia Broderick and me… and what an honor it is to be able to say that.

It gets better; for 22 years, beginning in September 1978 and continuing through May 2000, Lola was this magazine's treasured math columnist.

Lola was famous for (a.) her ability to make speeches about math and receive standing ovations; (b.) her ability to teach mathematics in the classroom (elementary through college); (c.) the funny noises she made on her national math television show and, quite simply, (d.) her uncanny ability to make people of all ages laugh and learn – which brings me to the genesis for the title at the top of this page.

In 1945, Lola, as a newly minted, summa cum laude graduate of the University of Wisconsin (with a major in mathematics), landed her first job as a teacher of high school math in Fort Atkinson, WI.

Everything seemed to go well until, nearing the end of her third year, the superintendent said he would not renew Lola's contract because he needed someone "who could do a better job with the forensic team." To put it bluntly, Lola was fired.

If you knew Lola like we knew Lola (and many of you knew her quite well), you'd agree she would not go quietly. She didn't.

Telling the superintendent he couldn't fire her because she was hired to teach math, not forensics, Lola went about her business (conclusively demonstrating that Lola also flunked "Politics 101").

As the month of May arrived, and no employment contract was forthcoming, Lola got the message. So, as her parting shot, she wrote on her classroom's blackboard, "The first of June is the last of May."

And now you can see why, at the top of this column, the title is "…the last of May."

Today our dear friend, Lola, who is undoubtedly ensconced in that "great classroom in the sky," is probably reading the title and laughing like hell (yes, Lola could swear with the best).

In her autobiography, Lola wrote that when she became a teacher she wanted students to laugh and ask questions. And she would make sure the bright ones were not bored, nor the slower ones intimidated.

In her career she taught all grades, created a 20-session "live" mathematics series for TV, taught at the college level, spoke at educational conferences all over the world, coauthored math textbooks and, when Barnaby, a brilliant third grader asked, "Dr. May, you're very pretty. How come you're not married?" she answered without missing a beat, "If I'd known my last offer was my last chance, I might have taken it."

A brilliant, funny, wonderful lady.

A legend.


Allen Raymond is the Editor/Publisher for Teaching Pre K-8.

May, 2007, Vol.37, No.8