InClass

When the two words don’t feel like enough, you write a few more. Angelia Ebner shares her feelings about Teacher Appreciation Week.

“Thank you” is not a phrase that can be used to express the gratitude I have for the teachers who inspired me growing up. I remember so many of them for a variety of reasons.

My kindergarten teacher, Mrs. White, taught me to love reading. Ms. Robinson, my first-grade teacher demonstrated incredible empathy and compassion for all of her students—she made me feel like I was the only person in her universe. In ninth grade, my social studies teacher, Mr. Saunders, inspired me to pursue teaching, in order to help create the peaceful changes I wanted to see in the world.

All of these incredibly different teachers had one important similarity—they knew me. Each took time to get to know my interests and passions. Ms. Robinson knew how much I was looking forward to our first-grade Cinco de Mayo celebration, when disaster struck. I got the chicken pox and had to miss our festive class party. In lieu of it all, Ms. Robinson sent home goodies for me and took time to celebrate with me when I got back to school. These few moments in time have stuck with me over the years. It’s more than appropriate now, as a seasoned educator, that I say those two, inadequate words.

Thank you for seeing me, respecting me, and caring for me. I have aspired to be like you and several others I was lucky enough to call teacher, for my entire career. Thank you for helping me become the educator I am today.