When people ask you, “Who was your favorite teacher?” how do you respond? Was it the kindergarten teacher who dressed up on Dr. Seuss’ birthday? Was it the third grade teacher who was patient while you learned to read? Or was it the college professor who taught you how to think and express yourself?  My favorite teacher is actually someone whose class I was never a part of. My favorite teacher is my mom.

My mom is the kind of teacher every child should have at least once in their life. From the time I was little, all I ever wanted to do was grow up and be a teacher just like her. Watching her interact with her students over the years has given me character traits that are priceless. Like compassion. And forgiveness. And finding the best in others.

I have very vivid memories of my mom in her classrooms over the years. When we lived in San Diego, she taught in the juvenile court system. A system of schools comprised of battered and abused children, pregnant minors, juvenile hall boys, and a homeless shelter. To most, the thought of working in any of these settings would make them turn and run. But not my mom. She always finds a way to impart her love in the darkest of places, and many of the youth that she has worked with over the years came to her in that darkness. She held babies on her hip while teaching their teenage moms math and science. She got a classroom full of boys, many of them gang members, to write paragraphs about their future goals and how they were going to make a positive change in their life. She created art projects for kids with casts on their arms and bruises on their face. She fed starving teens, clothed them, cared for them, and then helped them achieve their high school diploma. She loved what many teachers might call the unlovable. Why? Because she understands that children aren’t born with hate in their heart. They aren’t born as drug addicts. They aren’t born as gang members. They aren’t born automatically knowing two languages. And they certainly don’t choose the family they are born into. My mom taught me that every child is worthy of being saved. Every child matters.

Don’t get me wrong, with that love and compassion comes some pretty high expectations. Ms. Sula (the original) certainly marches to the beat of her own drum. Hell, she marches to the beat of her own damn band. Mom is the kind of teacher who will be her students’ biggest cheerleader while also offering up a good dose of “get your crap together” reality check…all in the same sentence. She is tough, but she is fair. She is the teacher who spends weeks planning projects that have purpose and meaning. And whether that means constructing an airplane to play Amelia Earhart or sewing ears and a tail on her jacket to be the big bad wolf, she’s willing to do it. She is the kind of teacher who sees potential in every one of her students and works tirelessly to bring out the best in them. She is the kind of teacher who spends countless hours with students on her own time to make sure they are caught up. She plays with them, laughs with them, sings with them, does aerobics on the blacktop with them. She is the kind of teacher I always tried to be.

Mom, today you end a teaching career that has stretched over 20 years and literally encompassed students from every walk of life. You have laughed with them, cried for them, held them when they were hurting, celebrated their success, and turned their failures into learning opportunities. Every single thing I learned about being a teacher, I learned from you. Every compliment I have ever received about my classroom or my ability to work with students, I learned by watching you. This world is a better place because of you, and whether they know it or not, every student whose life you graced with your presence, is a better person. Because of you.   

Happy retirement mama. You deserve every ounce of relaxation you have coming to you. Even though anyone who knows you, knows that you won’t sit still for more than 30 minutes. Oh, and even though you will yell at me later for it, it’s time you start thinking about yourself.

So…if anyone reading this knows a kind, honest, God loving man who would like to take my amazing mom on a date. Please message me. Trust me, she’s worth it.

Xoxo,

Meem