A Love Letter
Recently, I was asked to write a note to my Grade 6 teacher, upon her retirement.
After decades of wondering what had happened to this woman who changed my life, her son had reached out for me. Of course, a teacher myself, September is a long and treacherous month and I left the letter to the last possible moment. Her retirement was yesterday, and this is the letter I wrote to her. Maybe one day I will be able to write you each a letter to show you how much you have influenced the trajectory of my life. Until then, glean a little from this letter about the guiding power of love.
Thank you all for loving me in your own way.
(A Letter to the Teacher Who Helped Propel Me Toward my Destiny)
Surely, I do not have to tell you that there are people who enter our lives at the perfect moment, in the precise way that helps propel us towards becoming the person we have always been meant to become, and that these people often touch our lives in ways we cannot understand until they are no longer within arms-reach. I am writing this letter to let you know what I’ve been wanting to tell you for decades: Thank you for shining light into my heart when my world was dark and precarious. Thank you for believing in me and for lifting me up so I would not sink. Thank you for loving me in a selfless way.
How do I know you loved me? That you loved all of us
despite our anger, hormones, anxiety and self-loathing? I know because, one day, I found a little piece of your love embedded in my heart while I first stood in front of my own Grade 6 classroom. Your love shone through me when I reached out to lift up my own students—especially those who felt the least worthy of love. I felt an echo of your presence when I selflessly poured hours into planning assignments to fill units that would make my students’ eager to learn, and when I looked for opportunities to help their inner worlds shine.
Oh, the horror I felt at being pushed into middle years when I became a teacher!
I cried, knowing that I had been so troubled and troublesome. I had terrorized my teachers and my mother with my horrible behaviour, with my self-destructive tendencies–and now I was expected to deal with a class full of the children I had been? As I stood at the helm, over-looking a sea of faces as eager and energized and overwhelmed–as frightened–as I was, I realized that you had prepared me for this moment the day you stood in front of your Grade 6 classroom. You had shaped me to become one of those teachers students don’t forget. I was destined to become a teacher much like you.
Throughout the years, I have often thought of your face
—your double-collared shirts and scarves, the creamy pink lip gloss you applied with a wand, your soft eyes and soft voice—but mostly I remember how you told us about your own life. We saw tears in your eyes when you revealed your own stories still rife with pain. You let us see you as a person, so we trusted you. I became that sort of teacher with my own students, and so they trusted me. You were my role model in this, and so you have helped me touch so many students’ lives when they most needed it. You helped me make a difference, as you had made a difference in my life by teaching me to be generous and selfless with my stories.
Other things about your teaching showed up in my classroom.
I cannot say that I hauled straw bales in my own classroom because it went well with the theme—but mentally I have tried to replicate those straw bales. I have pushed students to go beyond what they believe they can accomplish, and I have tried to make every teachable moment a motivational learning experience. This is what I learned from you.
Apart from my professional life, you also touched my horizons—you stretched them wide. Do you know that you are the person who made me believe I could one day become a writer? You read my journal and my stories and encouraged me to keep going. In fact, you helped me get my first publication. Your words sat in my mind and in my heart until I finally believed in myself and became a writer. I may never have realized this dream without you.
This letter could go on and on...
Instead, I hope we can continue the conversation. I hope you understand the difference you made in so many of our lives.
Best wishes and much love,
Rachel
Thanksgiving Blessings!
In case you missed it, I’ve updated my CV page–Let Me Read Your Writing, Rach!
And you might want to take a final read of my Welcome Home page, as it will soon be updated.
past posts to revisit