#23) Thank a teacher

      My sister and I both had an English professor during undergrad that looked like a hot, grown-up version of Harry Potter.  I think it was the Buddy Holly glasses.  You know the type: ironic cute with leather patches on the jacket? Beyond his quirky good looks, * Dr. Potter* was the most inspiring teacher.  He was the standard that all graduates strive to be when they finish student teaching and are bright-eyed and idealistic and fancy themselves to be Hillary Swank from Freedom Writers.  His classes consisted of hilarious lectures on Brit Lit poetry, each poem suddenly transforming from stuffy to scandalous.  I remember half the class blushing after he discussed a poem called "The Flea", which he made sound like the seventeenth century version of 50 Shades of Gray.  Tell me that isn't a class worth waking up for!

      Of course, that wasn't what made him so inspiring.  Instead, he made people feel smart and unique.  I remember him chirping, "Great point!" after anyone's contribution, and his Rate My Professor page was and is filled with comments like:  "Cool dude" and "He got me to change my major to English!"  Bethany took his class three years after I did, and we argued over whose essays he liked better, comparing his encouraging comments that we clipped from the bottom of the final pages.  At one point, she dubbed him a "compliment slut" because he made students feel like they were special, when really he doled out affirmations to everyone that crossed his path.  (At this point, I should mention that he did this to both genders and was not biased to girls, lest you think he had some ulterior motives.)

       Fast forward nine years later, I was at my college taking a summer class the other day when I walked by the building where he held classes.  For a second, I wished I had taken the time to send one of those “thank-you-for-being-an-inspiration” e-mails and wondered if it would be weird to write one now. Then, I eschewed that idea because I realized that the sentiment might be lost a bit with the e-mail being delivered almost a decade too late. What a slacker…

 
    That night, I was at a concert with Dan, pleasantly buzzed and crooning along to the Avett Brothers.  Guess who was standing directly in front of us and turned around to ask, "Your name is Christen, right?" None other than Dr. Potter himself!  I couldn't believe the timing.  We chatted pleasantly for a few minutes, and that was that.  The next day, I wrote him the insanely belated "thank you" e-mail, and he responded with (of course) the most affirming response ever, that included, "For the record, the reason I remembered you is that you were a great student!  Your students are lucky to have you!" 

Then, he wrote a nice comment about Bethany and asked me to tell her hi.  Dammit if he isn't still  a bit "compliment slutty" nine years later!

     I doubt anyone's still reading, but I guess the reason I'm writing this is because I've been thinking a lot about teaching lately.  Wondering whether I inspire my students.  Feeling intimidated, as I do at the start of each new year, that I have the power to encourage or deflate the creativity of these tweens that I teach each day.  Wishing that I could make all my students, at least once, feel special.