Dear World,

Growing up and going to school, I often found myself at the other end of a scolding session or parent meeting with the principal, due to my hyperactivity and refusal to stand down when I felt my teacher or teachers were treating others or myself unfairly. I’ll never forget in 3rd grade we had a “Blue Book’, and it was the type of book that you did NOT want your name in, at all costs. I fucking hated that book. It sat front and center in the class, and I swear it taunted us. Well, I can say with 100% honesty, that in my entire 3rd grade year, I went one day without my name written in that book. Yep – ONE DAY. On all the other days, not only would my name be written in that stupid  book, but there would be at least one or two check marks next to it; the equivalent of writing my name more than once. I’ll admit it – I was a supremely defiant child, and I am still defiant, to this day. I’ve always been a firm believer in standing up for yourselves, or for others, if and when they are unable to stand up for themselves. So I would write my name in that book, day after day, and you know what it taught me? Nothing. It taught me shame, and it was a daily reminder that I was doing something wrong.

Now, in 5th grade, we had a teacher who was, for lack of a better word, an asshole. I don’t like to speak ill of those who have since passed away, but I will never forget one particular instance which got me into a giant heap of trouble at school, but not at home. One of my friends in the class who shall remain nameless out of respect for her family, was living with a terrible and terminal illness. I believe it was called Niemann-Pick Disease, if my memory serves me correctly, and it was heart-breaking at such a young age, to watch your friend slowly deteriorate. We were only ten years old, and it still haunts me to this day. The reason I bring her up, is because one day, the teacher in question called out her name, in front of the class, and IN FRONT of the entire class, informed her that the medication she was on gave off such a putrid smell that he was left with no choice but to move her desk outside of the classroom. I remember at the time I was memorizing the preamble to the Constitution, and when I heard him speak, my face became hot and I saw red. I was only ten, and I didn’t care. He would NOT get away with such cruelty. So, I took it upon myself to stand up, and pull my desk with metal legs, in extremely slow motion, across the wood floor – not only to hurt his ears, but to make a statement. I remember vividly how he looked up from his desk at me and said, “Katie! Stop what you’re doing right now and get your desk back where it belongs.” And I also remember my response. “No. You are a jerk, and if you are going to embarrass my friend and make her sit outside because her smell bothers you, then so am I. Oh, and by the way, I think it is GROSS that you clean your contacts with your mouth.”

And with that, I let the desk drop to the floor, and then promptly walked out to the hall where my friend was sitting, and asked if I could share her desk. I was sent to the principal’s office, and my parents were called in to the school, but I couldn’t have given one single flying fuck. He was wrong and she wasn’t able to stand up for herself, so I did. I know it was none of my business, but I didn’t care. She was my friend, and he was an asshole. For the record, my parents did not punish me; rather, they commended me, but then strongly suggested that next time I speak to them first.

But don’t let the intro to this post cloud your judgment – this post is actually dedicated to three specific teachers who challenged me and cared for me and gave me the courage and foresight to see the future for its endless possibilities, rather than its limits. Two of these teachers were mine, and one of them happened to be one of my kids’.

The first teacher I would like to acknowledge is my 6th grade teacher. His name is Mr. David Grelle, and we hit it off from day one. He was sarcastic and brilliant, still is, as a matter of fact, and he always made learning fun. He also didn’t take shit from anyone, and was always quick to put me in my place. But he also took my behavior with a grain of salt, and even when the other kids would make fun of my weird and loud personality, he was always there to remind me that I was special. In fact, one of the things said to me I still think about any time I doubt myself. It was recess, and I was in his room helping him grade spelling tests. I actually preferred that to hanging out on the playground. Anyway, as we were grading papers, he looked at me and said, “Katie. I want you to listen to me and listen carefully. You are twelve, and you have a very strong and defiant personality, but I see nothing but greatness in you. You are fearless and selfless, and the things you say or do that people might frown upon now, as an adult, will earn everyone’s respect.” Now, whether or not people respect me is not really my problem or concern, but because of his wisdom, I took the road less traveled, and I am proud to be the person that I am today. So even if no one respects me, I respect myself, and as long as you respect yourself, then the above statement is true: The possibilities for the future are indeed endless.

Now, the second teacher I would like to dedicate this to played an extremely important role in shaping me into the person I am today. Her name is Janice Pinyan and she was my 12th grade psychology teacher, and one of the kindest people I had ever met. I had just moved back from Europe, and I was living in the guest room of my childhood home, as my dad at the time was engaged to a woman whose daughter had taken over my bedroom. Meanwhile, my mother was off galavanting with a man she’d met while I was living abroad, and chose to tell me, via email, that she was moving to Chicago with him and I could either live with her and this new man whom I’d never even seen a photo of, or I could move back to Texas with my dad and his new “family”. Needless to say, it was a rough time for me. I snuck out of the house almost every single night with my best friend, and I would use her older sister’s ID so we could go clubbing. My senior year was a joke. Every morning, my best friend would pick me up, and we would decide whether we wanted to go to school, or look for boys at the mall. The mall was more often than not, the winner.

Now, my dad had not given me the password to check voicemails (smart move on his part, I will admit), so I made sure one day to watch him so that I could erase the automated school messages indicating that, “Your daughter is not at school today.” Once I accomplished that, all bets were off. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees, and I was headed down a bad road. Well, finally one day Ms. Pinyan took it upon herself to call my dad directly at his office on her own time, for she was concerned about my many absences, and wanted to make sure I was okay. As this was the first time my dad had even heard I’d been absent, that day sucked. Like, really really sucked. I got into so much trouble. But the funny thing was, was that I wasn’t angry at her for calling. Looking back, I now realize that I was crying out for help, and she was the only one who seemed to answer. Because of her actions, I was held accountable for mine, and after a long discussion with my dad and the school, we figured out a plan for me so that I could make up for all the time I had missed at school and the work I had not completed, so that I could still have a chance at graduating. For that reason, as well as a few others, I am deeply indebted to this woman, and any time I think of her, I smile. She believed in me at a time when I felt unwanted and severely displaced, and I don’t know how my life would have turned out, had she not intervened.

And finally, the third teacher I would like to acknowledge was never actually my teacher at all. But then again, might she be? It has been 18 years since my Senior year, and now that I have children of my own in school, she has played a significant role in shaping them, and if she only knew the gratitude I feel towards her, she would probably laugh and tell me to stop being so dramatic. But it’s true. My oldest son suffers from severe ADHD & Anxiety, and I use the term suffer with conviction, because in today’s society, everyone expects children to act like drones. In fact, I refer to such children as “drone babies” because they behave exactly the way they are told to, as if they were robots being controlled by a remote. My boys are the opposite – they are defiant and excited about EVERYTHING. They talk out of turn, they like to interrupt others because their brains are running at such high rates of speed that they need to get their thoughts out NOW!!!!! But, these boys are also kind, generous, honest, and like me, stand up for themselves and others. This wasn’t always the case with Asher, and that’s why this teacher is so important to me. She gave Asher something he, until that point, severely lacked – self-confidence. While other teachers (not all) constantly admonished him for his behavior and impulsivity, she showed patience, understanding and compassion. She let the little things go, and always made sure to work with us, his parents, and the school administrators in order to find the best way to help him succeed. She helped him find ways to channel his extraordinary energy in a way that would be looked upon in a positive, rather than negative light. And the changes have been so impactful, that as I sit here typing, tears of joy and gratitude run down my face.

Teachers are unappreciated and underpaid to the point that it’s laughable. How can we, as a society, justify paying millions of dollars to people who happen to be athletically gifted, yet we pay pennies to those who spend countless hours and money out of their own pockets to give our children the best chance at a bright future? How and when did our priorities get so skewed? Do you think it’s easy trying to mold children? Imagine how much work it takes working with your own child, at home? It absolutely infuriates me to see the immense failures we, as a society, have committed by rewarding the wrong people for what? Catching a ball? Dribbling? Scoring a goal? Of course, this is not to say that these people aren’t worth anything – after all, they bring joy to millions, but what about the doctor who just saved your life? He or she had to go to school to learn how to save lives, and who taught that doctor how to spot a potential illness or disease? That’s right – a teacher. A teacher taught you how to read, so that you could study hard to become a lawyer, a nurse, a secretary, a fireman, a police officer, etc. Basically, teachers are the BIG BANG of our futures. Without them, we are a useless, helpless society, prone to serious inadequacies, compared with most of the rest of the world. The Middle East, in my opinion, is a perfect example of what happens when people are not given the opportunity for limitless education. A brain without information is a brain of stagnation and starvation. We, as a human race, all have the innate need to learn and grow, and when proper educational tools or resources are not provided or are hindered, we shall seek an education wherever we can get it – whether it be positive or negative.

We all in our own way want to feel like we can and have made some sort of an impact on the world. And that impact begins with our teachers. So to the teachers around the world, striving to mold the future generations in a positive way, I say thank you. And to the politicians who sign bills taking these teachers’ resources away, I say, “You are idiotic fools, and anything and everything bad that happens at the hands of future generations lies on your shoulders. You have the power. Use it wisely.”

And lastly, to the three teachers to whom this post is dedicated, I want you to know that I couldn’t possibly respect you any more than I already do, and because of you, I am a better person, and so are the many others you help every day. It is one, if not the most selfless act one can do for another, and my admiration for you knows no bounds.

Sincerely,

Kate