All teachers leave a lasting impression on you—good or bad—whether you know it or not, and almost all of them teach you some valuable life lessons. There’s the third-grade teacher who scares the living crap out of you, and who you are baffled to find out has kids and grandkids and a life outside of being a mean teacher. There’s the fourth-grade teacher who shows you that working hard and getting 100s on spelling tests can win you trips to the fake store in her classroom that’s full of her old knickknacks, which you can buy with your good grade. And then there’s the fifth-grade teacher who realizes you have potential and pushes you to your limits.
While I’m grateful for all the lessons I’ve learned and the great memories I’ve made, I’m most indebted to my kindergarten teacher, who quite possibly taught me more lessons than all of my other teachers combined. Mrs. Robinson was an awesome teacher who truly loved spending all day with children, teaching them how to read, what the primary and secondary colors were, and how to share. She had a way of making everything fun—even reading and cleaning.
She was genuinely interested in each and every one of her students’ futures. I don’t know how you can gain perspective when you’re five, but she definitely gave me a fair amount of it. I know that when you’re that young, the world is nothing but hidden treasures around every corner, but she somehow managed to teach me to cherish the little things, to see each day as an undeniable new adventure, and to have a sense of wonder that I have never lost.
So, as Simon and Garfunkel would say, here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson.
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