2019 Honoree The 2019 John C. Monigold Award Honoree

Mrs. Vicki Granger

“Thanks for the memories…”

Over the past several decades, I have written a lot: from term papers, master’s degree theses, and newspaper reporting to website features and social media posts; from letters of recommendation and evaluations for students applying to college to papers summarizing the findings of a faculty committee.

In my position at De La Salle Collegiate now, as editor of The Collegiate, writing about alumni and their achievements is easy. Our many Pilots are so very accomplished.

Writing a piece about myself is, well, not so simple. It’s been an honor and privilege to be part of the De La Salle community since 1982. My previous time at Catholic schools -- all closed now -- included Bishop Gallagher, Our Lady of LaSalette, Dominican, and Servite. The late Brother Kevin Gilhooly welcomed me as the school moved to Warren. I had subbed in the building in the late 60s when it was Holly Junior HIgh, and Common was a dirt road. I had been in the “old school” sev- eral times, teaching classes in the 70s as the Detroit College of Business rented classrooms in the Annex. Boys from De La Salle acted, and sang, and danced in plays at Dominican High School -- plays I directed -- and worked on set construction along with their sisters and girlfriends.

My initial teaching assignment was freshman Honors English, freshman English, and Advanced Placement English. Later, there were occasional sections of senior English, and a Journalism class I instituted in the 90s.

Freshmen English. Students enter high school from so many different grade schools and have so many different skill levels, particularly in grammar. I’m so proud that some of those who struggled so very much have gone on to become English teachers themselves! There were vocabulary lessons, diagramming lessons, conjugations. Students wrote in journals, usually reluctantly, but those journals fulfilled their intent: to help students put thoughts down and think through their hopes and dreams, and fears and anxieties. A full page on getting cut from freshman basketball and how the coach was the dumbest person on the planet became a cathartic experience, and that boy walked out of class feeling less upset and ready to seek a new challenge.

I also taught Advanced Placement English, Language and Composition. When I walked through the doors of De La Salle back in 1982, I hadn’t even heard of AP. My seniors were patient with me, as I returned papers loaded with red ink -- nicknamed “bleeders.”

Lots and lots of writing was required, along with reading. Some of my happiest memories are the days of the AP test, when guys would leave the testing room, find me waiting nervously in the hallway, and smiling that they felt con-