Why are we not talking more about Teachers?

Everybody has a teacher story. I don’t think we hear enough about them. 

I was the quintessential average student for most of my school years. Remarkably average. I got mostly B’s taking mid-range classes that were not too challenging but not the easiest either. I never took a book home and always did the bare minimum to get by. I was much more interested in sports than learning. 

Somehow, in my senior year, I wound up in Mrs. Brewer’s physics class.

This is my teacher story.

Mrs. Brewer set a fire under me. Gently, sweetly, without pressure. She gave me space, and forgiveness, all while encouraging me to do better. To dig deeper. This was a turning point for me. The concept that I was smart enough to learn harder topics was something I had never considered. 

All it took was the caring guidance of a patient teacher. 

It would be easy to pass this off as an interesting but insignificant event. But this passion, this fierce desire to learn, that first took hold in her class in my 18th year, has never left me. It set a foundation for my next years of learning and exploring in hard sciences, social sciences, art, history, cultural matters, global events, politics….. 

When you’re raised in a lower socio-economic class, and then released to the broader world, it’s easy to get lost. To feel inferior. To be intimidated by people who were raised in academic cultures or economic circumstances that enabled a certain entitlement.

 In my last few months of schooling, Mrs. Brewer magically transformed me from an indifferent student to a curious student of the world. She gave me my academic identity. Taught me that I was smart enough to learn — and the desire to do so.

All these years later, I can remember her teaching style, how she walked around the room and spent time with every student. How quiet and thoughtful and gentle she was with all of us. I never heard her once raise her voice or even show any frustration. Her physical presence was slight but she controlled the room completely. Her intelligence was clear, but she also had grace and a surprisingly funny sense of humor.

She never obviously favored the smartest or berated those of us struggling to keep up. She was completely dedicated to getting me through — and over the course of the class I learned to do the work and began to see the results. Most importantly, I began to enjoy the experience of learning. 

I’ve replayed this period of time in my head for decades, and I’m confident that if I had not wound up in Mrs. Brewer’s class, I almost certainly would have continued to languish. I have never forgotten what the impact of that class and her teaching has meant to me. It made me a much better person. The lessons I learned from her in those few months, ultimately facilitated my career and impacted nearly every other aspect of my life.

This is the power of a teacher. These silent heroes who toil day in and day out to bring light to darkness and order to chaos.

So thanks to Deanna Brewer, and Jim Helsinger, and Ernie Dalton, and Jim Garlough and Nancy Evans. No way my life is as blessed as it is without your guidance and mentorship.