“She grades hard, but it’s out of love.”

“There is nothing wrong with a “B” in her class.”

“She has the best laugh.”

This is the advice my seven new students received from students who had known me for a year or more. 

At that moment, I knew I had made it. I achieved legendary teacher status. Because this is everything I would have said about my favorite high school teacher, Cory Mitchell.

I met Cory my sophomore year in a required writing class. I clung to the dedication and passion she radiated for her profession. I knew she could help me grow. And she did. It was the first time I saw myself as a writer at only fifteen years old. 

From then on, I needed to sign up for every class with her. From Advanced Contemporary Writers to Film Appreciation, I did not care as long I got to learn with her. I wanted to absorb her knowledge. I wanted to be exposed to all of the books she was reading. I wanted to see which student could make her cackle. 

I carefully watched her in each class.  Where she would randomly bring Twizzlers to class, I now have Starburst days and snack drawers. Where she would bring in excerpts of books for us to read and analyze, amazing me at her breadth of knowledge, I share book talks with students and her on my latest reads. She emulated everything I desired to be as a teacher and life-long learner.

Still, 25 years later, I am blessed we are still connected. I tell her how I taught the same Kahlil Gibran poem in my curriculum, hoping it will speak to my juniors in the same way it did to me. I share my struggles of teaching, knowing the echoes of the system reverberate and recycle. And I revel with her in all of the joys of the students’ stories and accomplishments. The true reason for it all.

Through it all, I am honored to carry on her teaching legacy for the years to come.