By Lindsay Tice,Staff Writer

AUBURN – Charlie Berry asked four eighth-graders to lift a classmate from his chair, using only two fingers each.

After the first attempt failed amid giggles and disorder, Berry called for attention.

“Stop fragmenting. Let’s get organized,” he told his English class.

The room fell silent. The four volunteers stared hard at 13-year-old Matt Blanchard, chanted to 10 – and lifted him into the air.

“Do you understand this is how you change your reality? You focus,” Berry said over the cheers.

The exercise illustrates Berry’s approach to teaching. He is feared and admired for his offbeat assignments and high expectations.

Berry, 63, began teaching at Auburn Middle School in 1985, after a 20-year exploration of communes, ashrams and Christian Science. An intensely intellectual man with a grandfatherly air, Berry immediately challenged his students to explore college-level philosophy, psychology and literature.

“I was scared to death of him,” said Sue Callahan, one of Berry’s first students. “He was so intimidating to an eighth-grader. He used big words.”

Richard Cullen saw two of his sons through Berry’s class in the mid-1990s. His oldest walked into class interested only in baseball.

“By the end, he was writing poetry,” Cullen said. “(Berry) challenged him to think about life bigger than baseball.”

Over the years, Berry became known for assigning projects that helped students deal with growing up. A lesson on respect includes tracing the life of a person and compiling a 50-page book with mementos, pictures and interviews from people close to that person. Each student presents a report during an emotional Respect Night.

In a rite of passage project, students say goodbye to childhood, gathering for a symbolic – or real, if they want – burning of their favorite childhood possessions.

This year’s advanced class, halfway between Respect Night and Rite of Passage, is studying archetypes. In one 50-minute lesson, Berry wove in Greek mythology, Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung and the collective unconscious. When students got distracted he told them they were “fragmenting the energy.” When he wanted the kids to relate, he used TV counselor Dr. Phil to illustrate a point.

“Everything we learn here is connected,” said Matt Blanchard, the boy whose classmates lifted him from the chair to show focus.

Current and former students say they adore Berry. A few, including Sue Callahan, now teach with Berry at Auburn Middle School. Others drop by when they’re home from college.

Richard Cullen’s oldest son, who was interested only in baseball, e-mails Berry while he serves in the Peace Corps in Bangladesh.

“He leaves all of his students with the understanding that they are special, that they are important to him, and that importance doesn’t end when they leave his class,” Cullen said.

Born and raised in Maine, Berry fell in love with school as a child. He could imagine no better career than teaching, and middle school is a perfect fit for him.

“I feel this is the most crucial age, the most beautiful age to teach,” he said.

Berry loves it now more than ever. But at 63, he notices how much work it takes to run his high-energy classes. He had a heart attack six years ago and back surgery last year. Parents often beg him to stay for one more year or two or three, just until their youngest child has been in his class.

Berry makes no promises to stay, but he has no retirement plans, either.

“I’m taking it year by year,” he said.