I had just arrived to one of my first classes of senior year. With coffee in hand and my hair tied up on my head, I was the walking stereotype of a senior in college. I opened an old purple binder from two semesters ago, grabbed a pen, and waited to see if my professor was the type of person who makes her students take notes during syllabus week. To my surprise, she stood in the front of the room, looked out to a sea of tired looking 20-something-year-olds, and asked us “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
As kids, our teachers asked us this question all the time. Granted, we probably replied with a far-fetched kindergartener’s response (i.e. a firefighter, a singer, the President of the United States), yet our teachers still genuinely wanted to know where we wanted to go in life. In your adult life, how many teachers and professors have asked you this? Sad to say, after 17 years of schooling, I’ve walked into classes where I jotted down the power point slide into my notebook, studied the notes, participated in class, received my grade, and forgot the material and the instructor two weeks later. I’ve even had a professor tell the class that we are merely “just numbers” that represent a grade he puts into the computer. He didn’t have an interest in knowing his students and bettering their futures; therefore we didn’t have an interest in knowing him.
However, I have had countless phenomenal teachers and professors throughout my 21 years. They aren’t great because of their study guides. They aren’t great because of the subject they teach. They aren’t great because of their curving policy on exams.
They are great because they look at the tired 20-something-year-olds with recycled binders and they genuinely care about where we want to be and who we want to become. They are great because for them, their job is not complete after we turn in our final exam. Their job is complete when we utilize the material they have provided us with and actually make something of ourselves in the real world. Their passion is what makes them great.
In high school, two teachers in particular demonstrated this passion. When I needed help with college essays, one of them always stayed with me hours after the bell rang to make sure the finished product was perfect. On the last day of high school, one of them handed out a self-made tip sheet on how to survive and thrive your freshman year of college. Their genuine care and concern reflected through their teaching and because of that, four years later I still remember what I learned in Honors English and U.S Gov. So this is a ‘thank you.’
Thank you to all those teachers who see our potential.Thank you to all those teachers that care about their students’ futures.Thank you to those teachers who don’t look at their students as just numbers in a grade book.
You aren’t just teaching us a subject; you’re teaching us how to be better.