Friday, December 20, 2013

History . . .

. . . well, what else can you call it.

It's my history anyway.


I have this ability, which in my view really isn't THAT special, to recognize people from my past.  And since as I get older that period of time continues to grow larger, that number likewise continues to grow, quite possibly making it increasingly difficult to maintain this ability.

But anyway, I had an opportunity to practice this (mostly) wonderful talent recently when I encountered my tenth-grade biology teacher in the grocery store.  And although we had a most pleasant conversation, there are some things, as happens in many conversations, that I did not say at the time but which occurred to me later making me wish that I had said them at the time.  So I thought I would say them here.

This particular teacher was a breath of fresh air in some otherwise unspectacular high school years.  She was young, not unattractive, energetic, enthusiastic, articulate, funny and unmistakably dedicated.  I was an impressionable, un-academic, socially awkward, decidedly uncool, dweebie, acne-faced adolescent young male biding my time in a school that offered me very little in the way of intellectual stimulation or social opportunities.  She taught biology, one of the few subjects that held some appeal for me, being a lover of reptiles and amphibians. But she taught biology, as I'm sure she could have any other course, with pizazz and finesse resulting in one early-morning class to which I actually looked forward favorably.

One component of this biology class, which now upon reflection I realize, was instrumental in shaping my academic future and later life.  It was a  project we undertook of a multi-media presentation within the topic which required team work, writing, selection of visual material and accompanying narration and audio.  I, with the encouragement of this teacher, was selected to be the narrator, which in truth was mostly because I was one of a small few who could read more than one sentence without stumbling.  But this distinction helped shape the direction I soon decided to take toward a career (or at least the pursuit of such a career) in media.  This decision (which by the way I have never regretted due to the many pleasant years and good friends which resulted) at which I arrived was the result of the (rare for me, at the time) confidence I felt because of this science project and with the help of this wonderful teacher. 

So not only is this petite, unassuming figure not difficult for me to discern in a crowd because of her smiling, wise and pleasant face, she is one of a select few persons from my past who helped instill something in me that I have never lost and which has become an integral part of my makeup as a happy, responsible, functioning adult.  Thank you Miss Wells.





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