Why do I remember her? She taught me that I could survive despite negativity. She taught me that fear of the “red pen” would not stop me from writing poetry that flowed out, as I aged, poetry that was my style, my words, my way. I became published, my poems in books others read. Maybe I even inspired them.

 

By Julia W. Prentice

I’ve had many teachers in my life.

The two I remember best: my 3rd & 4th grade teacher Mrs Thompson-Allen. I loved school and writing and reading, but never felt safe in her English class. I can remember the terror I felt when her red pen crossed my page. A large woman with a large voice—a voice that sent jingling bells of fear and anxiety through me, as she ruled class with harsh guidelines.

The crowning blow: we were supposed to memorize a poem to read out to the class. I chose The Jabberwock, which I loved for its creativity with words—made up words—but that still spoke of a thrilling adventure. When I recited the poem, she was so angered and almost shouted out “that’s not a poem!”

I was crushed.

Why do I remember her? She taught me that I could survive despite negativity.

She taught me that fear of the “red pen” would not stop me from writing poetry that flowed out, as I aged, poetry that was my style, my words, my way. I became published, my poems in books others read. Maybe I even inspired them.

The other teacher, Ms. Nigrosh, was a college professor who taught French and French literature. Something sparked between us—she inspired me to be strong and brave…the contrast between the two was startling. She became a mentor, asked me to be her teaching assistant. As TA, I aided other students in her class to shine.

This was the beginning of my becoming a teacher, working in public school as a young college student gave me huge confidence.

As I left college, at graduation, we hugged and cried a bit.

I was launched into the world of teaching, tutoring and eventually becoming an American Sign Language interpreter and later a Peer Support Specialist. All the time, I mentored, following her model. Oh, I will never forget Mrs T-A, as we called her. And much more importantly, the lessons I absorbed with Ms. Nigrosh.

 

From the Connecticut originally, Julia now lives in North Carolina, US with her soulmate and their furry companion. Past careers include ASL interpreting, preschool teaching and tutoring. Currently she is a passionate Peer Supporter of persons with mental health challenges, a certified W.R.A.P. Facilitator and Certified Peer Specialist. In her spare time she’s a writer, knitter, crafter and singer. Her poetry is published in seven books, and several blogs. 

 

Photo: Pixabay

Editor: Dana Gornall

 

Did you like this post? You might also like:

 

Are We Programmed to People Please?

  By Erica Leibrandt In this age of “self” discovery and “I” everything, with outspoken cries for “boundaries” and “space,” why is it so hard for some of us to stop doing things we don’t want to do, and making commitments we don’t want to...

No Matter How Many Mountains I Climbed, the Farther Peace of Mind Seemed to Be

  By Jason Garner My friend and Zen teacher, John Tarrant, taught me a koan about enlightenment and every day life. It goes like this: Student: What is enlightenment? Teacher: Ordinary mind I think about this a lot---enlightenment and...

The Beauty of Being Ordinary.

  By Tammy T. Stone   I remember it like it was yesterday. I was in my mid-twenties, warring with a Masters thesis that hurtled barriers against my every attempt to get the thing done, spiraling into in an increasingly depressive state. I had become...

Age is Important to Me, but Not for the Reasons You May Think.

  By Jesse James   Age: something often taken for granted in our younger years, yet an incredible point of pride for me. It is important to me, but not for the reasons you might think. For I am not sitting here with regret nor concern for the days that have...

Comments

comments

danagornall@gmail.com'
Latest posts by The Tattooed Buddha (see all)