She Writes to Remember

It’s been a long time since my last post, aka my first post. I thought I would have more to say, or at least the motivation. I hope what I’m talking about today isn’t very relatable to many people, but I fear that it will be.

There is a man I have long credited for much of who I am today. He taught me how I now see the world. He was the foundation for what I studied in college, he taught me how to approach an argument, he introduced me to ways of thinking I had never previously imagined. To this day, I get praised for my unique perspective and framing, and it is why I think I am seeing success in my chosen career. The career he encouraged me to aim for.

That man was my high school teacher. Two years ago he was fired for having a relationship with a student. This last week, an article came out with the disturbing details of the affair.

The whole time I was reading it, I just kept thinking, “why wasn’t this me?” Because, in so many ways, I think it should have been.

We’d spend hours alone together. In his office, in his classroom. Sometimes we’d step into his office during class so we could talk in private while the rest of the class did work. Other times, we would talk in front of the class, just us two, discussing my project and the different angles he thought I could take it in. I’d skip other classes so I could see him during his planning period. I’d stay after school.

I thought I was so special because this brilliant man was spending is valuable time with me, a mere 16 year old. Yes, he had many students he cared about, and who cared about him, but we had a connection. We loved the same niche subject. I shaped my entire year-long project around him and what he taught me. I would’ve done anything to keep his attention on me.

There were days he was really cruel to me. One time, in front of my entire class, he told me I was lazy, and that he couldn’t believe how much time he had spent on me just for me to blow it all. I was embarrassed and felt like a fraud. The next day, in his office, he read my work again and gave it endless praise. I thought maybe he missed a day of his meds. In fact, I’m sure he did.

I cried in another teacher’s room on more than one occasion because of how he treated me. Eventually, she reported him, and I was forced to give a statement. But the school didn’t take me seriously, and I was glad. I didn’t want him to get mad at me. I wanted our special connection to stay as strong as it was.

He wrote me my college letter of recommendation, and I got accepted into a top program. I have bragged about how much he taught me for years and years.

So, why didn’t he make a move on me? Why didn’t he choose me? These are the thoughts that rack my brain. I know I should be grateful it didn’t go further than just emotional. But part of me knows that teenage me would be devastated to know he was capable of having emotions for a student, and that it wasn’t me. I just wanted him to respect and care about me the way I did him.

Teachers are in such an important role. They can inspire students, but they can also harm them in ways that their students may never recover from.

I’m so grateful it wasn’t me. But, I know I was still a victim. I just didn’t realize how bad it was until I learned he was not a man of integrity like I thought. I’d convinced myself I caused the problems. I didn’t, of course. I was a child.

It’s so painful to look back at your vulnerable self and realize how unsafe you truly were. Especially when it was with a figure you should have been able to trust. So much of who I am is because of this sick man. That doesn’t negate the good, but it makes it harder to be proud of.

The point of this post isn’t just me complaining. I mean, it is, but I hope you can take away more than that.

People are complex, and we are all the products of the people we have met. I was influenced strongly by a very sick, very unwell, but brilliant, man. That doesn’t mean I will turn into him, and that doesn’t mean what I know has a dark side to it.

Lessons we learn are ours to use.

I love what I do and I love how I think. His behavior doesn’t take that from me. No one can take that from me.