Something surprising happened last week when I traveled to my old hometown for a high 
school reunion.
Nothing mean or sad. Nothing embarrassing or weird. Nothing involving Imposter Syndrome (although that is very real!).
I caught up with my lovely classmates. We enjoyed delicious food (see below), laughed a lot, and shared what we’d been doing with our careers and families.
What surprised me was this: I got to reconnect with some faculty members who had once taught me. In fact, the first person I met when I showed up on campus was one of my former English teachers, Mr. Herzfeld. He retired a few years ago, but he looked almost exactly the same as I remembered.
I told him that I quoted something he once said to our class in my upcoming novel.
“What did I tell you?” he asked with trepidation.
“You said, ‘poets need time to stare out of windows,’ and I never forgot,” I said.
He had reminded our class that there was a place for daydreaming, for looking out of windows and thinking about the possible, and the impossible.
That wonderful teacher told me I was a writer.
Even in high school, I knew I wanted to be a doctor, so Mr. Herzfeld pointed me to the work of doctors who were also writers, like Richard Selzer and William Carlos Williams. He told me I didn’t need to give up writing, no matter what I chose as my career.
My life has been full of wonderful teachers—teachers who opened up the world and taught me the skills to make sense of it, who treated me like an intellectual equal, who demanded my best and pushed me to do even more. I met librarians who taught me how to research, and helped me find the perfect next novel to read. My teachers convinced me I could do anything and everything, that I didn’t need to limit myself.
And they were right: I studied government in college…and Shakespeare and calculus and Michelangelo and quantum physics and French. I did go to medical school and became a physician, and I’ve been humbled and overjoyed by my medical career.
But when, several years ago, I decided to try writing fiction, I had my teacher’s conviction to fall back on: I was a writer. Once I remembered that, all I had to do was write. And now, I have a second career writing books for children.
Through the years, I’ve watched diligent, brilliant, incredible teachers help my own kids expand their universes. And I’ve watched my teacher friends put everything they have into their students, and get them excited about all kinds of things—including wonderful books, some written by people I know.
I am a writer. I am also a dreamer, who stares out of windows. Because of my incredible teachers.
Please share your reflections on your teachers in the comments!
But first, a recipe. One of my classmates made this delicious shortbread for a reunion event. It’s deceptively simple, but absolutely scrumptious.
Deliciously Simple Shortbread
Ingredients:
- 3 1/2 cups all purpose flour
- 1 cup sugar
- 3 sticks (8 Tablespoons each) unsalted butter, chilled and cut into slices
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
Directions:
- Preheat oven to 350F
- In a large bowl or food processor, combine flour, sugar, and salt.
- Cut in the butter using two forks, a pastry blender, or by pulsing in the food processor until fully combined and crumbly.
- Press into a 9” x 13” pan and bake for 20-25 minutes until the top is light brown.
Allow the shortbread to cool on a rack. Cut into pieces while still slightly warm. Enjoy!
Giveaway Time!
In honor of the teachers who instruct and inspire their students with care and passion, who spend time and money and love on their pupils, who help show children that they really can do anything and everything, this month’s giveaway is just for educators. Enter to win an assortment of debut middle grade books by incredible diverse authors: THE SERPENT’S SECRET by Sayantani DasGupta, FRONT DESK by Kelly Yang, THE FIRST RULE OF PUNK by Celia Pérez, and HURRICANE CHILD by Kheryn Callender.
My high school English teacher taught me the most about grit. H e never stayed from a challenge. His plate always seemed to overflow. He knew that I was involved in sports, clubs and other activities in high school. One particular afternoon, I was very stressed about a huge game later that evening. Also, I needed to finish the school newspaper layout, do my homework and perform on the basketball court. He worked at calming me down and explaining that there hadn’t been a time when I wasn’t able to get things done. He said, “I don’t know how but you always seem to get everything done.” He actually came to my game that night to cheer me on and I will always remember him telling me that I always found a way to get things done. Between teaching, being a mom and working another job, sometimes I feel as though I will never get things done! His voice comes to me often and reminds me that I’ll find a way.
Thanks for the opportunity!
It’s amazing how much these words and expressions of support mean to us, both at the time and years later. And you are doing the same for your students! Thanks so much for sharing!
Raj – I LOV E this –thank you for sharing! Indeed we were very fortunate to have amazing teachers at Collegiate. I had several favorite teachers (and a few I tried to avoid like the plague) but what I remember most is how much they wanted us to succeed. I hated anything math related – didn’t like it, couldn’t do it, knew I’d never need it; however,I had a math teacher who worked with me every single day, encouraging me and praising my efforts when I would finally get something right (she had the patience of Job). She never gave up on me, she knew it wasn’t my favorite subject but she told me, repeatedly, that I could learn it! Thankful to have been in a school with such dedicated teachers!
Thanks so much for reading, Kim. Our teachers were amazing, and (clearly) unforgettable! There’s really something to be said for sticking with something even if it’s not your favorite…a great metaphor for life in general.
I love reading stories like this from authors! It’s helped me to be deliberate about speaking these things into my third graders’ hearts. Already this year, just seven weeks into school, I have kids that have shown themselves to be writers, and I tell them that. I love seeing glimpses into their futures – sometimes I really do feel that I can see a child as the adult they are meant to be, doing what they are meant to do. Last year in a simple Readers’ Theatre activity I saw performers. Every day I see readers and writers and leaders. I have the best job I could have. It’s often difficult, but the kids are what keep me coming in every day.
Shari, thanks so much for reading, and for sharing! As you can see from my post, hearing a trusted teacher tell you something can make a huge difference in someone’s life. That voice in your head can get you through struggles until you realize the voice is also your own. Your students are lucky to have you!
For Mrs. Hamel in 2nd grade whose writing “contest” I won with a story about a horse and a whale. For Mrs. Gombas in 3rd grade & 5th who shared a love of stories and gave me permission to write stories instead of practicing penmanship. For 8th grade when we were left alone to read. For Ms. Nicolari who showed me that I could withstand tough feedback on my writing and come out stronger as a writer. For the colleagues who reminded me as an adult that I can be…am…a writer. Thank you to the teachers who’ve shaped me. And thank you for sharing this memory of someone who knew that poets need time to gaze out of windows and dream what is possible and impossible both. Best wishes on your book!
Thanks, Katie, for reading and for sharing! There were too many teachers to mention by name, and I was afraid I’d leave someone out! Best of luck on your journey! We can both stare out of different windows at the same time. 🙂
I”m not a fan of shortbread cookies, & it”s my daughters favorite. I only made one batch, tasted them! Now I”m sorry I didn”t double it. Best shortbread cookies I”ve ever tasted! Sure she”ll be requesting more
So glad you like the recipe! They are astoundingly tasty.
Rajani, it was so great to see you at the reunion, and it’s wonderful that you mention Mr. Hertzfeld. He is a miracle of a teacher.
For me, there was a moment when i was a senior in high school when my English teacher asked me whether I read The Saturday Review–an arts and culture magazine back in the day. Like the other members of my class, I was a poor kid from a blue collar family. I had hardly ever hear of this magazine. (I knew of no one who had ever graduated from college–or maybe even attended.) But the moment when she asked me this question became for some inexplicable reason a turning point. I wanted to be a person who read such magazines who knew about books and plays and such. She thought that I was capable of being that person. I became that person.
I am not saying that my whole life turned on that moment, but there must be something about that moment that it has remained so emphatically with me.
I am amazed by the power of one person and one moment.
Thanks, Dr. Sutton, for reading and sharing your story. Those moments when someone reaches you with their words are certainly precious, and important to remember.