I'm in the middle of creating Amanda's math reviewer when I decided to take a look at the large photo album I was using as a lap desk. What started as a one album break turned into a 5-album trip down memory lane. Before I go into the mushy stuff, I need to remind myself (1) to thank mommy for documenting everyone's childhood and (2) to start documenting Jose and I's photos.
Okay, back to memory lane. I saw a lot of photos of my grade school years and I could still fondly remember a lot of details about them... except my teachers' names. I remembered what they did for me and what they taught me but I just can't remember their names. Part of me felt ashamed that I easily forgot the people who taught me so much and really helped transform me into the person I am today. I know those teachers don't remember me, too and maybe back when I was their student, they didn't really took me as anyone special, but still. I felt I owe it to them, all my teachers, to at least know their names so I can give them due credit when I get praised for my algebra knowledge or my ability to spot a dangling modifier.
I stared at the group of photo of my 6th grade class. I was president that time and my adviser was smiling to the camera. She has long forgotten me now but when I was her student I remembered she was very proud of me when I was the only student not part of the special star section for girls to get picked as a student teacher. Maybe it's all the movies about teachers/mentors speaking, but I imagined she had a hand in making that happen. That she saw potential in me and wanted to help me hone whatever talents or skills I had. Whether thay was true or not, she still told me how proud she was of me. I didn't realize it then but that was one of the moments I unconsciously decided to be more outgoing and more active in school. I never truly thanked her enough for that.
Suddenly, my brain went it to flashback mode and all the teachers who ever made me feel that they saw something special in me came flashing in my head. And I didn't know their names. Well, most of them. To top it all of, the taste of guilt became all the more bitter when I recalled my favorite The Wonder Years quote (which I printed in my college yearbook, btw) --
"Teachers never die. They live in your memory forever. They were there when you arrived, they were there when you left. Like fixtures. Once in a while they taught you something. But not that often. And, you never really knew them, any more than they knew you. Still, for a while, you believed in them. And, if you were lucky, maybe there was one who believed in you" - Kevin Arnold
To all my teachers, thank you. I never really knew you, nor did you know me. But for that one school year, I believed in you and I still can't be thankful enough that you believed in me.