Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Thank You, My High School Teachers, Thank You!

I was sick of seeing all disheartening news on social media, and my distraction by reading a novel was getting old. Something pulled my eyes toward some old note books bound by Guatemalan patterns and colors that I saw beside me on a bookshelf.

Inside I found a collection of thank you notes from former students over the years that lifted my spirits and misted my eyes. Themes emerged: thank for your authenticity, for your humor, for your vulnerability, for your empathy, and for the energy and enthusiasm with which you teach your classes. Thank you for listening; for caring for us as individuals. These notes helped me to see that I had made an impact on some of my students' lives. I am grateful for the chance I had to do something notable for them.  

I was transported back to my High School years and thought of the teachers who made a significant mark on my own life.

Mr. Carey, my Spanish teacher who was a little quirky, was a chain smoker and came to class with an oily black mark on his forehead on Ash Wednesday. You taught me my first words in Spanish . . . and look where that took me. Thank you!

Mrs. Weaver, my English teacher. She was prim and proper and pronounced the "d" and the "c" in adjective when no one else did. She read my short story out loud to the class as an example of creative writing . . . and look where that took me. Thank you!

Miss Smith, my choir director. You chose me for the select choir even though I was only a freshman, and most of the others were juniors and seniors. I auditioned with the required Brahms' "How Lovely Is Thy Dwelling Place" without knowing how to read music . . . except from the shaped-note hymn books from church . . . and look where that took me. Thank you!

Mr. Weaver, my gym teacher. You begged me to go out for sports that were forbidden by my family, but when he watched me performing gymnastics, he pulled me aside and asked me if I had ever considered going to college to become a Physical Education teacher . . . and look where that took me . . . not very far except for entertainment at family reunions.

Bro. Dietz, my Anabaptist history teacher. You gave me a sense of identity and love for my heritage that I tried to hide from in public schools . . .  and look where that took me . . . teaching in four different Mennonite/Anabaptist colleges. Thank you!

All of these mentors have now left this earth. While they were here, I didn't take the time to thank them for how they influenced me. How much their encouragement meant to me. I am sorry for not recognizing them, because I now know how much those Thank Yous mean. I will treasure them for the rest of my life. 

Having been in the education system for over 30 years, I know how heavy the load is for teachers. I also know that over the course of those years, the loads have become increasingly heavy with assessment requirements and social issues we never had to face. So, kudos to you teachers who persevere. You never know what kind of impact you will have on a young life.