Dear educators,

Perhaps it was my youth that allowed me to remain convinced that all who enter schools as teachers and mentors are there because they feel a drive to sculpt the next generation of cooperative leaders, talented artists and empathetic humanitarians. It could be that I grew up in a school environment that did just that. Maybe I expected more from you simply because I was always taught to treat others with the dignity and understanding that I would want from a stranger.

Yet, as my time in the school system progressed, I stumbled more frequently into unhappy classrooms staffed with disconnected adults simply just trudging through their days.

This, to me, is one of the most fundamental issues in our time. It's one we don't like to discuss much.

As a teacher, you spend nearly 2,000 hours on average with your students each school year. This number fluctuates by state, since school day requirements vary, and grows as the child ages, since most public schools in America revoke the recess privilege around sixth grade. 2,000 hours is a lot of responsibility. I'm not sure if that's stressed enough.

For example, my sixth grade science teacher used those hours to draw my wonder and attention to what might be beyond the stars. I spent hours researching, logging and memorizing the name of every known planet and galaxy. She connected me to something I found easy to love. This is what good teachers do.

Jump ahead to my sophomore year of high school and suddenly I have a teacher who's dedication to reality turned me away from the stars and to a much more "reasonable" desk job.

"We can't all be astronauts. Leave that to the professionals, perhaps something in research will turn up for you."

She used her hours to divide my dream from reality. I was turned away from something I might otherwise be pursuing to this day. She convinced me that adventure, success, and an interesting career path was something predetermined, and that seeking those paths was a waste of valuable cubicle time.

You may say that this type of interaction is only meant to be helpful, and that in the long run the dose of reality you've given me will push me towards a safer path. But what about the kids who need more than reality to push them through the day?

For example, one of my best friends from high school came to his guidance counselor in the midst of a personal crisis. He figured if he couldn't talk to his family, and if his friends couldn't completely grasp the situation, maybe a trained professional could. To his dismay, however, he was turned away. The counselor told him that, "all teenagers get sad. Have you considered praying about it? That might be your best bet."

A lack of connection in schools can be dangerous. Think of the lives that could be changed if you, our mentors and teachers, stepped up to the plate more willing to raise us students up instead of simply lecturing, grading and then passing us on to the next classroom.

Think of all the good that is possible.

This isn't to say that every teacher is bad. Quite the contrary, I've been lucky enough to have been blessed with some of the brightest minds and most caring souls as teachers. These people have showed me what good can come from compassion, what discoveries can be found with dedication and the impact just a single voice can have on the world. Those lessons are not small things. I thank each and every one of them for their contribution to my childhood and beyond. Having a good teacher can mean a world of difference to even the most quiet and shy student like me.

However, a negative teacher, mentor or even coach can do much more damage than a positive teacher can fix. I spent years and years in music classrooms, growing with each and every teacher I came into contact with. Music was my home, my family, and ultimately what my world revolved around. When I arrived in college I found myself in lessons with a dismissive professor who found it easier to teach me through scalding comments instead of positive reinforcement. It was no longer about family or lifting each other up; it became a competition of who was better. This has ruined my love for orchestra.

To every mentor, I implore you, investigate the impact you have on your students. Make your classrooms welcoming places where scholars of every age, race, identity, learning ability and style have the chance to succeed and grow as individuals. Demonstrate to them that you can lead with empathy and do not continue a fear narrative where not every student feels comfortable. Focus on community, get to know your students as if they were your own children, and help them find a way to achieve their greatest goals - even if that means directing them away from the desk job and setting their path for the stars.