“If you can read this, thank a teacher.”
~Common Bumper Sticker

This past Monday I was in the presence of greatness. I was privileged to be witness to the reunion of one of our church members and his fourth grade teacher. Both are actually members of the same church and have only come to know this in the last year or so. You see, the student is nearly fifty years old. His teacher is ninety-five.

I learned of this relationship when visiting the elder of the two in her assisted living residence. She was proudly showing me school pictures of students she had taught. She still remembered many names and even knew what some were doing with their lives. It was a wonderful moment for me when I was able to tell her that one of her students whose work she follows in the local newspaper is a member of her church. From that time on, I set about getting them to meet again.

And what a joy it was! I loved listening to the memories and the questions. Questions about how he came to do the work he does and other questions about the wisdom she has of what children need. The conversation was lively and filled with rich words and connection. I was drawn in now and then but I mostly loved watching these two generations collide after such a long time. I loved seeing the respect for one another and the genuine desire to hear the stories of the other.

Those of us who have been teachers or have worked with children in various settings know the joy and challenge of such work. Each child holds such potential and it is a true gift to watch them discover, not only how to do things or develop skills, but also how to become their own authentic person. An observant adult can see the places where confidence needs building up or how a moment of undivided attention makes all the difference in the world. How many times I have thought to myself, “I want to know you when you are twenty or thirty!” after a child says or does something that hints of who they are becoming.

Other than parents, teachers can be the adults who can care unconditionally about a child. They can have an influence that can last a lifetime as I was able to see on Monday. This experience has made room for me to once again give thanks for those teachers who ‘saw’ me and allowed my own unique gifts and spirit develop, those who listened without judgment to my ideas and passions. I give thanks for Mr. Williams who taught me the joy of singing for the sheer joy of how it felt in your throat. And for Miss Neff who taught me that history was more than the wars we fought but also the art we have created, the music we have composed, the literature we have written. I give thanks for Mrs. Elcess who didn’t make red marks on my poetry sans capital letters in senior English class, instead saying ” I see you have been reading e.e.cummings.” I give thanks for all those teachers who gave of their time and used their own resources often beyond what they were ever paid to do. And I am filled to overflowing with gratitude to all those who continued to believe in me when I was finding it difficult to believe in myself.

These days, with budget cuts and the ways in which school systems are forced to structure and restructure themselves, teachers often get the short end of the stick. They are jockeyed about by institutions and leadership that often misses the mark for what children really need to become the best human being they can be. The kind of human being who takes time from a busy schedule to sit and be present to another human being who watched him take some of his first intellectual steps in the world. The kind of human being who gave of herself so the world can be a better place.

If you have read this, thank a teacher.