An open letter to my former early grade school teachers 

Amen to this, sister. Amen.

the silent wave

Dear elementary school teachers of my early years,

The first thing you should know is that I remember you. I remember all of you. I remember your names and faces. I remember the essence of your voices, even.

And I remember how you felt toward me and how I felt toward you.

When I was 19, I came back to the same area for university, and I made the trip to the school, to see as many of you as I could find.

I don’t remember why I was so nervous, but I do remember that the nervousness was mixed in with a sort of triumph. Because I’m not sure you ever thought I’d amount to much. And I did. I showed you. I proved you wrong. I turned myself around, academically.

When I was in your class, you saw part of me. You saw my potential. But you didn’t…

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