I’ve had my share of good and bad teachers.
I was so shy as a child that connections came in small, random ways. I was not the teacher’s pet bringing apples. It was the small things, like in third grade, when Mrs. Lee pulled me into the hallway one morning, concerned because I arrived on a cold day with no jacket.
I assured her I had just run out of the house without thinking.
It was also Mrs. Lee who told me one day that my leaf was too light. I took the green crayon and rubbed that crayon across my leaf until my hands hurt.
My leaf became a vibrant hue of green. Mrs. Lee took my leaf and hung it on the front door in the hall. I had been trying for the front door all school year.
I remember in second grade, we were poor and I came to school one day with a new pair of shoes. Mrs. Valdez noticed. She took my hand and led me in front of the class to show off my new shoes. I felt like Dorothy with her ruby slippers.
How I got those new shoes, though, is another column for next week.