School and I have always had a love/hate relationship. My first day of kindergarten felt like Christmas morning. I was so excited to meet all of my new friends and learn. The excitement of school slowly deteriorated and by the time I was in the sixth grade, and I was over it. The magic was no longer there and going to school had begun to feel like a punishment. In the eighth grade, I discovered that I loved to read. By the end of the school year, I had read over 6,500 pages. High school began a new chapter in my life, and like all angsty teenagers, I started to hate school. I sat in my car until one minute before the bell rang. I did my homework an hour before it was due. I begged my mom repeatedly to let me stay home.
Until I found something I loved.
I signed up for creative writing because it seemed easier than taking a science class. On the first day, we were asked to free write. Nothing too serious, just write about whatever came to mind. I quickly found out that writing wasn't as easy as I perceived it to be. I sat clueless for 15 minutes and stared at the blank page in front of me. It was hard for me to draw inspiration, especially when I saw how naturally it came to those around me. My teacher helped me find my path and continued to fuel my interest in writing. Teachers like this are the ones you don't forget. I left this class with more than information and facts. I learned how to really listen to others and empathize with them.
I found that every voice in the room matters, and that the quiet ones are usually the best storytellers.
Lately, I've been trying to retrace my steps to figure out how I got here. When I was 13, I had a teacher that loved to read. He had a library in his classroom, filled from ceiling to floor with books. His passion for reading made me curious, so I gave reading a try. When I was 16, I took my first creative writing class and fell in love with writing. When I was 18, my final high school English teacher sat her students on a carpet in the class and read us a Dr. Seuss book, showing me that you're never too old to go back to your roots. At 19, I am following my passion and in pursuit to create a career out of my passion.
To all of the teachers reading this, the little things always matter.
Something as small as sharing a book that you love or that a student might relate to can cause a ripple effect in their life. Students can sense your energy and tend to give the same amount back. Never underestimate the power you have to inspire someone.
