In just over two months, I’ll be walking across the stage at my college graduation, saying goodbye to my years as a student and hello to a future of uncertain potential. Like most seniors, this time in my life is filled with a mix of excitement and fear. For 17 years, I’ve been a student. I don’t know how to be anything else.
The journey has not been an easy one at times. It never is, regardless of the person. I’ve struggled with self-esteem, anxiety, anger issues, and more emotional distress than I care to explain in the nearly two decades of my education.
But, almost miraculously, I made it through. That’s largely in part of my wonderful parents, friends, and even myself. Mostly, though, I have to credit this feat to the teachers I’ve been fortunate (or unfortunate) to have in my life.
So, this is a letter dedicated to all of them, though I’ll only be specifically mentioning a few.
To my fifth grade English teacher, thank you for being kind to me as I struggled with my blossoming anxiety during the transition into middle school. Thank you for never growing impatient with me and always making sure I felt better leaving your class than I did coming in.
To my first grade teacher, thank you for encouraging my love of writing and for always reading the short stories I scribbled out during recess. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know if I would be where I am today with my writing abilities.
To my freshman geometry teacher, thank you for all of your help freshman year and every year since then. You tutored me for the ACT, helped me overcome a lot of my math anxiety, and always provided an ear to listen and genuine words of advice and encouragement. Your teaching didn’t stop in high school, as you still find ways to inspire me even three years after graduation.
To my third grade teacher, thank you for punishing me when I gave my opinions in class concerning the election year when you oddly asked a group of eight-year-olds to raise their hands if they would vote for George Bush. Thank you for telling me that “no one cares about little girls’ opinions” when I refused to raise my hand and that I should keep them to myself. As much as I’ve resented those words, you taught me that I always need to stand up for what I believe in, no matter who the authority or how many recesses I have to sit out for my “misbehavior.” If anything, the past decade of reflecting on those words have helped me become even more outspoken than I was at the young age of eight.
To my upperclassmen history teacher, thank you for taking your job seriously and being objective. You’re the only teacher I’ve ever had that highlighted the good parts of American history as well as the bad. Thank you for teaching me about Japanese internment camps, and the Civil Rights Movement, and the history of discrimination in this country. Thank you for showing me that I can be proud of my country but still want to make it better than it was fifty years ago. Thank you for “sticking to your guns” even when you were hounded by ungrateful students who didn’t want to put in the effort your classes required.
To my sophomore English and creative writing teacher, thank you for being, single-handedly, the greatest influence of my academic life. Thank you for helping draw me out of the funk created by bad relationships. Thank you for always talking me through my anger problems and showing me that being full of hate and being upset all the time wasn’t fixing my problems, it was just hurting me. I still have a long way to go on that front, but I still hear your voice periodically telling me to “let it go.” Thank you for encouraging my writing and helping me refine my skills, even when I resisted your advice because I, as a teenager, obviously could do no wrong.
To my current college professors, I have so many things to say. Thank you for always pushing me, even against my will, at times, to reach my full potential. Thank you for encouraging me when I get down, for guiding me when I need it, and for leaving me to my own devices and making me figure it out on my own. Thank you for teaching me about life as much as you teach me about communication. Thank you for taking the time out of your hectic schedules to meet with me and help with any problems I’m having. I’ve been extremely lucky these last few years to get to work with you, and I’ll take your teachings with me for the rest of my life.
I’ve had wonderful teachers and terrible teachers. I really believe I’ve had a teacher on every level of the great-to-abysmal spectrum. Luckily, the good have outweighed the bad, but even the worst teacher has managed to teach me something that I carry with me to this day.
My time as a student is waning, there’s no denying that. The transition into a functional adult is coming more quickly than I’d like to imagine, but I can’t stutter and stumble now. I have to make the transition, in honor of all the teachers that have believed in me and in spite of the ones that haven’t.
To any current or future teachers reading this, your job is more important than you can even imagine. It’s probably the most important job in the entire world. Your students will carry a part of you with them forever. Please try to make sure it’s the best piece.
