I’m ‘It’

I was recently ‘tagged’ for a meme. I have to admit that when it happened, I was a little bemused, as I had never heard of a meme prior to being tagged with one. Rather than admit that I had no idea what a meme was, I went online to do a little research. Apparently, a meme (according to Chrisg.com) is “a self-propagating unit of thought that is spread from one host to another.” In other words, it is a game of virtual idea ‘tag.’ The subject of this particular ‘meme’ is influential teachers. So, if I am understanding this correctly, I am to write about influential teachers in my life and upon doing so, have the obligation to tag someone else (or forever be ‘it’ and no one wants to be ‘it’ forever, although I have never been quite clear on why. ‘It’ does not seem such a bad thing to be, other than in the obvious ‘neutered’ sense of the word). But I digress.

As I mentioned, this meme requires me to ‘recall influential teachers.’ So, I started thinking back to my early education. I was not what you would call an academic success. To be honest, I don’t really remember many of my teachers and certainly don’t remember feeling deeply inspired by any of my middle school or high school classes. And in the primary grades, the only teacher I really recall is the one who publicly shamed me by SPANKING me at the front of the class, so she certainly does not deserve to be mentioned in any profound way.

I am sure that in my primary and secondary education I had many wonderful teachers. I am equally sure they each inspired hundreds, even thousands of minds. But for me, graduation was not a celebration of academic success, but a doorway out of a world I never quite felt like I belonged in. When I walked through that door, I certainly had no intention of going back into this world.

And yet, here I am in year three of my PhD. And for the first time in my life, I really do feel like I am in the right place at the right time. I can certainly point to a number of wonderful university professors who taught me to see the world through new eyes, but although they deserve much of the credit for my academic success (such that it is), I think it is often other kinds of teachers who start us on these journeys who often get overlooked.

My journey to here started a very long time ago. The road was covered in debris and there were many times that I could not see even a foot in front of me. But, I had the wonderful gift of a teacher who was always one step ahead of me, clearing the path, holding my hand and sometimes pushing me out of the way when danger lurked in the darkness. I had an advantage as I watched her navigate the road before me and I always admired her steadfast determination as she conquered both her demons and mine. I wanted to be just like my big sister. I craved her self-knowledge and often found myself mimicking her, choosing her favourite colour as my own and trying hard to fit inside her dreams and desires. I loved to live in her shadow. It was cool and comfortable and safe.

But, the more I watched her, the more I came to realize that what made her such a wonderful teacher was not that she pulled me along behind her, but that she marched forward on her own path. I wasn’t meant to follow along behind, but instead to learn from her how to clear my own way. I would like to call her fearless, but the greatest lesson she taught me was not to be fearless, but to be courageous, for courage is not the absence of fear, but the determination in the face of fear. Now that is a lesson worth learning.

So, my sister cleared a path for me, but she also taught me the importance of clearing my own way. But I had another teacher along the way who taught me that I was strong enough to do just that.

Have you ever watched a small child take their first steps? They hold on tightly to a leg, a table or a finger and then suddenly they simply let go and triumphantly move first one leg and then the other. Their excitement at having accomplished these first few steps bubbles over, their joy oozes out of every pore and then suddenly fear enters their eyes and promptly propels them toward the ground.

When I first met ‘S’ ten years ago, I was just beginning to strike out on my own. I was like that small child, taking my first steps. I was triumphant and frightened, but determined to keep moving forward. The problem was, that my legs weren’t quite sure what direction they wanted to go in!

I really believe that one of the greatest gifts a teacher can give you is the ability to see yourself in a new way. I remember ‘S’ telling me that I was smart. Brilliant, even. Me? Smart? I barely graduated high school and certainly none of my teachers had ever called me brilliant. But here was this man who listened to what I had to say and thought I was smart, who attributed my curiosity to brilliance. I laughed when he first told me that I was a smart woman. But he didn’t laugh. He just looked surprised that I didn’t know what he saw as an obvious truth.

It took a long time for me to realize that it wasn’t his vision that was distorted, but my own. He encouraged me to go back to school, not to BECOME smart, but because he believed I WAS smart. And so I went to school, not because I believed him, but because I trusted him. Each step I took, like a small child, I looked up at him to see if I was heading in the right direction. But he refused to point out the way, always trusting that I would find it on my own. And I did.

I have come to believe that the best teachers in life teach us to see the world in new ways and teach us to see ourselves in new ways. I can only hope that someday I can inspire my students, in the classroom or outside of it, in the same ways.

If you are reading this, (and you aren’t the tagger!), I encourage you to reflect on your teachers. Tag. You’re It!