My first real interaction with who would become my most favorite teacher of all time was terrible. I had officially made the newspaper he advised, "The Kirkwood Call," and, nervous about the first meeting, I’d decided I would be a couple minutes late so I wouldn't have to sit around awkwardly with no one to talk to.
But when I finally reached the classroom, the door was locked. I knocked timidly and peered through the window only to see that the meeting was already taking place. Though they turned around and clearly saw me, none of the students came to let me in.
I began to freak out. Suddenly, Mr. Eden opened the door. He stood over me and told me that if and when I decided to take my role on the newspaper seriously, I could come back. I distinctly remember calling my mother in tears.
Little did I know that even then, Mr. Eden was busy making me a better person. I am fully aware of how corny that sounds, but honestly, he made me do one of the scariest things I’d ever done: come back and face my own failure.
That day after school, I returned to the journalism room and, heart pounding, explained myself and apologized. Mr. Eden told me it was okay, that he understood and forgave me. I could've cried again, this time from relief.
Since that fateful morning, my relationship with Mr. Eden has come a long way. As the three years I spent under his guidance passed, I never stopped caring about doing my best work so he would be proud of me. My time with Mr. Eden as a teacher and mentor was the most challenging and rewarding time in high school.
And let me tell you: high school was challenging enough as it was. In my junior year, I began to struggle with anxiety and depression, yet somehow Mr. Eden created an environment of safety, love and inclusion that I couldn't find anywhere else. For the last hour of every day, I knew I’d be going to a place where people loved and cared about me as well as challenged me to do my best work.
Since coming to college, I’ve been unconsciously trying to replicate this environment somewhere, and to no avail. I don't know if it can entirely be replicated. I mean, where can I find another teacher who is willing to come in at least one hour early each morning and stay five hours late after school? Who will let me raid his food stash and let me eat all the M&M’s? Who will put up with me when I panic over tallying surveys approximately 27,392 times each day and yet still not get mad at me? Who will post random inspirational YouTube videos before class (that I definitely still watch sometimes)? Who will post a very unflattering Instagram collage for my birthday? And who will encourage me to be okay with making mistakes and not being perfect, yet still love me as though I am?
The thing about Mr. Eden is that he loves each and every one of his students as they are while simultaneously pushing them to be their best selves. As an advisor of a newspaper and a yearbook, Mr. Eden is in a unique position. Instead of simply telling us what to do, he guided us and let us make the choices on our own, which sometimes meant failing. Yet somehow he created an environment where failure was a learning tool.
Which brings me back to that morning in which I was locked out of the meeting. Instead of making that just an awful memory or a reason to quit, Mr. Eden pushed me out of my comfort zone and made me realize that I needed to be braver and more confident in myself. So many teachers would’ve simply let me walk in five minutes late. I’m beyond glad Mr. Eden is not one of those teachers.
I miss having him in the same building each day, and I wish I wouldn't have taken that for granted. Still, I know what Mr. Eden would say (and will say) when he reads this: that I need to create that environment for myself. (When I told him I missed his class a few weeks ago, that was his response. Secretly there was some eye-rolling on my end of the conversation, but I know he’s right.)
As a future teacher, I hope I can make my students feel as loved, supported and challenged as Mr. Eden made me feel. I've spent a lot of time wondering how I will go about being a good teacher, and I think Mr. Eden has it figured out: push your students out of their comfort zones, love them individually and make failure OK—a chance for growth.
So thank you, Mr. Eden, for everything you’ve done and do for your hundreds of students. It’s hard to find a truly amazing teacher, and I’m lucky enough to have had one for three straight years. I hope I can be half the teacher you are someday.
