Work harder or fail in school.

Stop talking, you idiot.

Everyone is staring at you, judging you, hating you.

These are just a few of the thoughts that would race through my mind right before I would walk into school. These thoughts were their strongest during my last year in middle school and they followed me like a predator into my first year of high school. Looking back, I believe those years were the lowest I had ever been. My anxiety had taken complete control of me and stripped me of my personality. I needed to switch to Dialectical Behaviour Therapy to learn how to deal with my stronger, more powerful emotions.

I had enrolled into English 9 Honors at Arrowhead Union High School. I chose a random seat at the front and waited for class to start. The bell rang and in walked a teacher. A woman dressed in vintage clothes with curled hair – which took me by surprise since I normally saw teachers in blazers and their hair pulled back really tightly in a bun – and a smile that lit up the entire room. It really only took me about 40 minutes into the Block hours to quickly learn that this was going to be my favorite class.

My English teacher’s name was Mrs. Elmergreen and she was, by far, the most bright and dedicated teacher I had ever had. She always had a way to make the lessons she taught intriguing and fun to learn. But something I will never forget about her was that she cared deeply about her students. I remember numerous times when my anxiety was taking over me, and I would hyperventilate and cry in class about an essay I had to write and no ideas were coming into my mind. I would listen to the computers clacking, knowing everyone already knew what they were doing whilst I sat in a corner and succumbed to the thoughts in my head:

What are you, stupid? It’s an ESSAY.

Get it done, lazy. Do you want to fail?

You fail in school, you fail in LIFE.

A note from Mrs. Elmergreen pressed to the table or her coming down to my level to talk to me was all that it would take to shut the voices off.

“If you need a break, just let me know.”

I would get up from my desk, one look from her and she knew. I would go into the backroom in her classroom and I would manage to get my work done in time for the bell. I would mouth ‘Thank you’ to her at the end of class and she would simply smile and nod. She was never judgemental or hateful; just cared with her whole heart.

Her encouraging words and her kind voice taught me to always be kind to myself and encourage myself that I can get past all the voices and walk through life.

I had her again as my English teacher for my sophomore year. On the last day of school, before I would move onto my junior year, I got up from my desk and I asked if it was alright to hug her, since this would be the last time I would have her as my teacher. She got up from her desk and wrapped her arms around me. She will never know how much that hug meant to me.

Thank you, Mrs. Elmergreen; you are forever in my heart and mind as the teacher that taught me courage and kindness to oneself is more powerful than any force on this planet.