Growing up I never knew nor understood the difference between public schools and private schools. I knew no distinction. However, as my innocence and naïve approach to view the world faded, I realized there was a big difference. Public schools are schools stereotypically filled with students from all incomes. They are filled with the misbehaved and the intellectually challenged. Private schools painted the aura that they are schools of great education as well as highly esteemed students and families. Although this seemed true in some aspects, as I grew, I realized these weren’t the true distinctions, other than the uniforms and dress codes that were different.
The high school I attended was constantly mocked by its own students and defined as a school lacking well educated teachers, staff, and equipment. I never once stood in solidarity with this “definition” and I never once doubted my educators.
I am now a student at Misericordia University pursuing a degree in Speech-Language Pathology and I am proud to tell people where I attended high school; I am not ashamed.
To my high school teachers:
From my first day in seventh grade, to my final day of senior year, I never doubted that you didn’t believe in me or did not have my best interest at heart. You relentlessly showed interest in making me a better person and educating me to your fullest extent. I ate all your words up. As I aged, I found myself in a pickle. I found myself unable to feel comfortable with my peers. I felt unaccepted and felt at times outside of my two best friends, that I did not have anyone on my side; I felt like an outcast. I resented high school for this. It was a constant battle every day and I woke up wondering what kind of day I would endure at school. Looking back, no matter the day, I always looked forward to walking into your classrooms bright eyed for your sarcastic comments, uplifting words of advice, or just your lesson of the day. To be honest, I am thankful every day for the teachers Northwest Area has as their representation.
I have been writing for Odyssey for months now and every week I throw around the idea of writing each of you an individual article. To be honest, I do not have the words to thank you.
Our school was not a “well-to-do school” financially, but the love and support from the teachers was surely “well-to-do.” I can barely think of a handful of teachers who were employed that were there solely to collect a paycheck. You were there for us, and it showed every day that you taught.
From Sociology, Psychology, Statistics, Comparative Anatomy, Great Composers, Choir and to study hall, too, I formed unbreakable bonds with men and women whom I looked up to as much as I did my parents. Your classrooms were my home away from home and your doors were always open. I hope that although there will always be difficult students to teach that none of you ever judge your excellence based on kids who will always be just that: kids.
To my guidance counselors:
Although technically, I was assigned one guidance counselor, if my counselor was not available I never felt as though the other guidance counselor would push me aside to try and make my issue wait. Both of you showed me genuine compassion for worries, doubts, or burdens that I held throughout my high school years. When my senior year was upon myself and my fellow classmates, I found myself struggling to find what I was supposed to do as well as where I was supposed to end up studying. Misericordia was not my first pick and when I found myself declined at first, I thought it was the end of the world. Although I understand this story is not important to recite, as you both know the struggle I had, I believe it is important for you to know how difficult of a time I had dealing with this and how much better you made my life by believing in and pushing me harder towards what I knew I wanted despite difficult obstacles. I will never forget my acceptance. I will never forget either of your excitement and elation. It was written on your faces and that was the moment I understood how blessed I truly was. I cannot thank either of you enough. Your doors were always open and you both believed in me and never let me give up on myself.
One day of senior year I remember feeling so anxious I had to leave class and come talk to my guidance counselor. As I stepped through the threshold of the office I felt immediate regret and thought, “I shouldn’t open up, I should turn around. My guidance counselor only knows me as happy.” Nonetheless, I put one foot in front of the other and entered your office. I told you everything. My highs, my lows, and how much I was dying to leave high school. I will never forget your words, “You might not miss it here, but we (the teachers) will.” That stung me, and still to this day, I think about all of you and how thankful I am for where you all got me.
I guess you could say that it is just what you make of it when you go to school. That I may have had a great experience, but it isn’t the case for everyone. And yeah, part of that is correct. It IS what you make of it. Northwest Area DID have the most hardworking and dedicated teachers I knew. They loved their jobs and they were there for the students, they were there for me, and they were there for my classmates.
So often I see people mock my high school and blame our rural school for their failures. I must apologize and tell them that is a simple cop out and that the excuse is lame and overused. I am flourishing as a student because of the teachers I had in high school. I did get my accolades by hard work but I also got them because the support of my high school provided me with over the top skills to succeed. The choice is yours, to flourish and bloom, or to weep in your own pity and suffer the consequences.
