Make your teacher proud…

Posted: November 19, 2014 in Writing
Tags: , ,

The first part of our lives is infiltrated by academic teachers. Word and number coaches who teach us the very beginning to our own personal knowledge base. As we progress through the education system we are faced with more intricate learnings. Our observations are sharper and we start putting together large chunks of what we understand into massive learned objects. Some of them become ‘enlightenments’ which end up driving us to successful professions.

But along the way, there are experiences that slip through the offered subject matter that have a way of shaping who we are. Some of those who contribute along the way are people we remember with a whole gamut of emotions: despising, awkward, charismatic, endearing.

Who helped shaped your life?

One of my most vivid memories in college was a professor in my junior/senior year. He was tough. Very tough. But also very good. I had an accident where a car radiator blew up and sprayed steaming hot anti-freeze on my back. Massive burns. I still had to finish fixing my car to get home. I ended up with gauze covering over three-quarters of my back, sticky with ointment, there to catch the fluids my body was producing to help heal the wound. It was horrible. Painful.

I had a test in two days – a big test – with this very teacher. I called to tell him there was no way I could drive 50 miles to class (yeah, long drive) to go over the test prep and could I postpone the test itself.

This was an actual, physical ailment. Nothing like faking a cold or flu and crying because I was scared of the test.
Did I get a resounding “yes, certainly”? Nope. Not even close.

He quickly arranged to find another student who lived close to me and someone that would share their test prep notes. And “I’ll see you for the test in two days”.

What? Are you kidding me?

He told me it was a deadline. And we don’t miss deadlines. It was a lesson. I didn’t know it at the time.
I ended up getting the notes and showing up to the test and taking it. I think I got a B+, which was a very good grade in his class.

He made me dig down deep and get over my whiney self and get the job done. I’ll never forget. It helped transform me into a stronger student. I apply that same resolve in every day life. I want to thank him for it. But he’s long gone.
The last thing that I can do is to make him proud. And I endeavor to do that whenever I have a deadline.

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