.

Asha Bansal

Student writer/poet

Sunnyvale, United States

In my free time, I love make pottery, sewing, and crocheting!!

Not Just A Teacher

Jun 24, 2024 2 months ago

She taught literature and history– not just any history, but the type that made you want to become a teacher so that you can do the same. She didn't use textbooks– it wasn't her style. My sixth grade teacher Mrs Coppage wasn't just any old teacher. Her style was picking out kids in our class that demonstrated qualities of famous historical characters, and telling the stories of the past as if those classmates were in them. Jack was like Christopher Columbus– the way he loved to discover every nook and cranny in the classroom and school. Anna was our class's Marie Curie– The way she was underestimated the most, but figured out the most complex science problems the fastest. I was Shakespeare– something that didn't sit right with me at the time, because Shakespeare was a man. What really made me remind her of Shakespeare was my slightly rebellious nature and insane creativity. When we read Romeo and Juliet, my teacher paid extra attention to how I felt about the book. What inspiration did I gain from it? What about his writing appealed to me, and how could I use it on my own? No teacher had ever seen her students the way Mrs Coppage did– not just watch, but see. Truly see what each child was going through without needing to even speak a word. She was a widower, with no kids, yet her maternal instinct was like no other. She treated every one of her students like her own. Whether it was keeping her room open during lunch, or studying one on one with her students that were struggling in class, everyone knew that Mrs Coppage was there as their support. I didn't quite fathom how deeply she cared until I was faced with my own personal encounters with her. Being a freshly entered middle schooler, I was desperate to fit in with a new crowd of friends from another school. These kids were cool– they had brand new iphones and wore t-shirts cropped to the length of their bras. They got me acting in a way that was neither appropriate for my age, nor appropriate to who I was as a person. One day, while class was in session, Mrs Coppage told me to wait outside her room, and that she was going to join me in a minute or two. Being completely unaware of my situation, I didnt realize she wanted to talk to me but did it in this way so that it wouldn't draw the attention of anyone in class. When she finally came outside, she looked me dead in the eyes, and told me that she could see the changes I was forcing myself to make. She saw how I straightened my curls every day ever since I got sat next to the popular girl in class. How I took off my monogrammed necklace when another guy told me it looked ugly. How I started skipping class out of nowhere with my “friends''. Then she told me that it wasn't worth it. She noticed how my smile dropped when I received a bad grade on a paper, only to cover it up by claiming I didn't care. How I covered my stomach and looked uncomfortable in my new baby tees. How I genuinely looked scared when I came into class tardy. She noticed, and she made sure to let me know that she cared. She helped me realize what priorities truly matter, since 6th grade me had her eyes too crossed to see. But what I learned was that to be loved is to be seen. My new friends didn't see me. I was a completely changed person, and nobody noticed that this new version of myself was nothing like my true self. Towards the end of the year I had surgery on my tonsils. I wasn't allowed any hard and hot food for at least 2 weeks. It was some girl's birthday, and she brought sugar cookies for the whole class, and even though they were freshly baked, they were pretty hard to chew. Obviously, my sweet-toothed heart was broken. Mrs Coppage, without even needing to hear it, drove to the store on her lunch break, and got me an icy popsicle so that I wouldn't be the only kid not eating their sweet treat. Such an act of kindness left me in awe, as it didn't even occur to me that anyone, let alone my teacher, would care that much for someone as to go out of their way to do something nice. Her kindness has forever changed my perspective on teachers– seeing them as our companions rather than our keepers. Her kindness towards both me and the rest of my classmates encouraged me to be a better person, and even more, a future teacher. Her teaching style taught me that a career alongside children is so much more enriching than it looks from the outside. Her authenticity and kindness is the reason why she is one of the only teachers I still keep in contact with today. It is rare to encounter someone who makes that much of an impact in your life, even rarer to find that someone when you need direction in your life.

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