I heard from one of my all time favorite teachers today. It was a random FB hookup.
The funny thing is, even after all these years, the impression she left with me remains.
She, or her belief in me, was the spark I needed to start seeing myself in a different light and listen to my gut instead of the high school mellowdrama that continuously buzzed in my ear.
I couldn't always hear that voice or heed it over the years, but even as I would drown myself out, the whisper that I was capable of more than I gave myself credit for remained.
My teacher taught the feared English class. And true to form, she was no softy. I was 17 and a little perplexed that I somehow ended it up in a room full of the perceived smart kids. She didn't seem to notice.
We covered everything from the Red Badge of Courage to Shakespeare. I even wrote a research paper on Karen Silkwood. I loved it.
My crowning glory was acing the Shakespeare test and getting the highest grade in the class.
My teacher gave me the highest accolade - public recognition that bore a byproduct of confidence I had not known before.
I hope my boys will know this kind of teacher - the kind who pushes and encourages you to achieve more even while others say you don't have it in you.
She shaped my life. And it's a good one.
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