The perfect teacher behaves and dresses in a professional way, but is not cold.  S/he is well mannered, which sets a good example for the students.

This person either has high intelligence in all areas of thinking; or else has above average intelligence in "book learning" and exception ability when it comes to common sense and general understanding of human nature.  I, personally, don't care if a first-grade teacher flunked Calculus.  I care very much if a teacher at any grade level lacks common sense and/or understanding of human nature.

The perfect teacher understands that children are not "stupid", even if they get poor report cards.  This perfect teacher understands that grades are not always the measure of a child's intelligence and/or emotional maturity.

The perfect teacher also knows that the child who gets good grades may still be under-achieving.

Speaking of emotional maturity, the perfect teacher truly understands what that is.  Too many teachers misinterpret behaviors, such as shyness, as "emotionally immature".  

The perfect teacher knows how to recognize particular (and general) "giftedness" in children and is not of the belief that such children don't have educational needs.

The perfect teacher understands that children are capable of being expected to behave in class.

The perfect teacher does not assume that because s/he has a degree in teaching and even lots of experience with lots of kids, that s/he always knows better than any parent.  This perfect teacher does not assume that parents are "incapable of being objective" or making the right decision for their child.  This is not to say that parents always know better; but the perfect teacher realizes that some parents sometimes know better.

The perfect teacher pretty much sticks to teaching academic materials, while expecting a certain level of behavior within the context of the school and classroom.  This ideal teacher doesn't presume to have the right or responsibility to teach children "non-academic" subjects, under the assumption that "parents don't talk to their kids about this stuff".

On the other hand, the perfect teacher would not look the other way, or think "it's just kids' stuff", when any student harassed or bullied any other student.

In instances when a teacher has no children of his/her own, the perfect teacher realizes that there are, in fact, things s/he cannot understand or does not know (regardless of how much understanding of human nature and common sense s/he has).  Nieces, nephews, and students in the class do not provide the same experience that having one's own children does. 

In instances when a teacher has his/her own children, the perfect children does not use his/her own child(ren) as a frame-of-reference for how other children should be/act.

The perfect teacher is not burned out.  S/he is truly has integrity.  When the perfect teacher thinks about teaching in general (as opposed to thinking about the nitty-gritty of day-to-day work) it makes his/her heart pound just a little (but in a good way, not a "stressed-out palpitations way").

The perfect teacher considers the possibility that a child's difficulties in class could be rooted in something that is going on in class/at school, and isn't necessarily "something wrong with the child".  At the same time, the perfect teacher knows, too, that a child who has difficulties in class could be having difficulties at home - and, again, that it may not be a matter of "something wrong with the child".  What I'm getting at here is that the perfect teacher is not too quick to assume that a child with school problems has something wrong with him, rather than with something around him.  Further, the perfect teacher truly understands that what can look like ADD or ADHD often simply isn't.

The perfect teacher knows how to establish him/herself as a "team leader", rather than a military officer or best friend.  This teacher knows how to speak to children in a way that earns respect, while also being respectful.  The perfect teacher isn't afraid to be that "team leader" , knows how to establish and exercise that role, and isn't afraid to do just that.

The perfect teacher doesn't see students as "one, big, mass of smaller/younger people".  This is a teacher who warms up when looking into the face of each and every child; and who knows, even if s/he cannot see all of what that child is, that child is an individual.

Particularly in grades beyond the first two or three, the perfect teacher doesn't feel the need to entertain students with comedy, stories of his/her own personal life, or other information not related to the subject at hand.

The perfect teacher has a solid understanding of all the types of intelligence.


To end my list of traits of a perfect teacher, I'd like to describe one of the few truly excellent teachers I had in my years attending public schools:

As a kid who wanted to be prepared for both college and business, I got the school's guidance department to approve a particularly heavy course load for my four high-school years.  One course I selected was an extra math course, "business math".  It was a ninth-grade class, taught by Mr. C.  Mr. C. was fresh out of college and looked about six years younger than he must have been.  He was of very slight stature and weight, and his small, boyish, face was framed by bright red hair.  His extremely neat appearance could be attributed to his angular build and pressed, formal, three-piece, suits.  He spoke in a low, close to inaudible, voice (almost as if he were cripplingly shy, or else, perhaps, had some kind of disorder).  Those of us old enough to recall the first edition of "The Barbie Board Game" also recall, "Poindexter".   Well, "Poindexter", was, of course, the name some students used for Mr. C (although I think that was students who were not in his classes).

Mr. C. did not smile (although twice something I said made him "sort of smile a little").   I got the distinct feeling that he may have been so worried that girl students would misinterpret any signs of friendliness he may have felt the need to be particularly business-like.  Then again, maybe he just liked "business-like".  It was, after all, a class in business math.  It even occurred to me that teaching may not have been his first choice in work, and that he had settled "for the time being".
 
Neither did he talk when he wasn't explaining math or telling students what the homework would be.  Instead, he pretty much stood in one place at the front of the classroom and explained (almost robot-style) one aspect of business math after another until the bell rang.  He didn't waste class time on things not related to the material.  This was a guy who would start the class the minute the first bell rang and keep teaching until about three minutes before the second was to ring, at which time he efficiently assigned the homework.

I have no doubt that more senior educators, or others, who observed this young teacher would have had plenty of constructive criticism for him.  Neither do I have any doubt that the word, "boring", was probably used millions of times to describe him.  Still, as I said, Mr. C was one of the few teachers of mine that I would call, "excellent".

The fact is, for all the teachers I'd had for any number of subjects (all the funny guys, the nice "motherly types", the "military types", the wise-old types, the cute types, the eccentric types, and any number of other types), Mr. C. was, in my opinion, the most effective and capable teacher among them all.

Strangely enough, and for all his apparent "lack of personality" or "class presence", Mr. C. was, as far as I was concerned, just about the perfect teacher.  In his "odd-little-person" way, this guy knew his stuff and knew how to present it in a way that made it easy for students to learn it.  The business-like atmosphere of the class was, in fact, good preparation for anyone who would later find himself in the business world; and while I have no idea how many other students got good grades in that class, I do know you could hear a pin drop while it was in progress.

Maybe what impressed me most about Mr. C was that he did not see me as a "little girl" the way so many other teachers sometimes did (just because I was young looking and small).  This young-looking, small, soft-voiced, teacher most likely knew that looking young does not equal being "dumb".  Maybe the very things about him that made him a little "odd" were the things that made him understand students best; and maybe what made him one version of "the perfect teacher" was that while he expected to be treated with respect, he also treated students with the same respect.  He gave students credit for wanting to learn the material, and for not wanting or needing a comedian or other entertainer to share it.