If you have ever experienced an interview, filled out a questionnaire or in general held a conversation with someone, you were probably asked the following question: who do you consider to be your hero? We tend to go for the historical figures that we learned about in the classroom or in our own studies, or we simply reply with a noncommittal shrug because let’s be real — it’s a loaded question. At least, we tell ourselves that it’s too complex to answer on-the-spot, but if you’re as lucky as I am, then you will reach a point in your life when the answer is obvious. At 21-years-old, it is clearer to me now than ever before that my parents are my heroes, and I don’t think that it should be any other way.

It’s true — not everyone is fortunate enough to have loving, supportive parents. I’m sorry if that is the case as well, and I do not mean to sound condescending for saying so. I truly hope that most, if not all, people can say that one, if not both, of their parents is their hero. To have daily role models that expect the best from me, but also put forth their best, is something that everyone should experience. As role models, they should not only expect a certain standard, but also mirror that same standard, and I see that every day that I watch my parents navigate their personal and professional lives.

I’ll start by talking about why my mother, Kim is my hero. Both of my parents, as I have mentioned in previous articles, are educators, and it has definitively shaped the way that I view education, as well as those who dedicate their lives to the profession. My mother retired last June — I should also tell you that it was an early retirement (you’re welcome, Mom). Whenever I imagined someone retiring, I expected them to become an entirely separate person from whom they were when they worked. I don’t mean that negatively either. When you stop doing what you have done on a daily basis — in my mother’s case, for 36 years —, one would expect the person to lose touch with the side that identified with his or her profession. Not Mom, though.

As an elementary-level teacher, she taught both deaf and autistic students, and she was a constant advocate for them. Whether it was ensuring that parents knew their child’s rights or ensuring that her students — and in many ways her extended children — were included in all activities with regular-ed students, she was committed, and I have always admired that. Perhaps what I admire the most, though, and consider to be the most heroic is that she did not leave these qualities in the classroom when the final student was sent home. It could be the weekend, the summer or years since she taught a student, and she will be ready to support them.

Similarly, I am fortunate enough to have another hero in the shape of my father, Luca. Dad is an administrator, also on the elementary-level, and more than anything, he is always there for his students. In one of many states that has had to adapt to new methods of testing and benchmark scoring, it is easy to get buried under the paperwork, especially on the administrative-level. However, Dad gets the work done and focuses his energy on making sure that the students are prioritized. By doing so, he in ensuring that they get the most out of their education in a personalized way that standardized testing cannot provide. Whenever my parents talk about work, one thing that I always hear him say is that “it’s about the students.” It’s a foreign mentality to some — namely certain state-elected politicians —, but it was always that straightfoward for him.

Dad is also someone that I admire because of his ability to engage with all types of people. Being able to engage with people, even under difficult or stressful circumstances, is in itself a lost art. Particularly with recent generations, people are less willing to conduct themselves in a professional matter. However, professionalism is something that Dad has always impressed upon me as being important. From him, I have learned that professionalism means not talking badly about those who you work alongside and also, embracing differences of opinions and taking it in stride. Dad recognizes the importance of distinct personalities, and is the first person to engage in intelligent dialogue, so long as it is respectful and each party is treated with the courtesy of being heard.

Perhaps the overarching reason why I view my parents as heroes, though, is because they have never sought to be considered such. Everything that they do and have done in the past was not for the sake of merit or for recognition. The way that I see it, Mom did it so that her students — past and present — could experience the same opportunities that those who can self-advocate achieve. Likewise, Dad did it so that doors can open for his students beyond our hometown, and can extend to more expansive opportunities in whatever direction their lives take them.

So, next time someone asks you who your hero is, truly think about it before you shrug it off. It may take you 21 years to have your answer readily prepared, but it was likely already inside of you on a subconscious level, waiting for the right moment to be shared.