Day 41 - Mrs. Forester

This will be my last post about my first hour class freshman year, I promise. Ms. Forester was the teacher. She was a little less than put together and had thick, thick glasses, but was sweet and soft-spoken. She was an easy target for The Heathers. Pretty far into the year, we enter the classroom to find Ms. Forester sitting on a stool in front of the class looking awful. While trying to tell us her husband left her and her two sons the night before, she started sobbing and left the classroom. Ugh. My heart broke and went out to her.

The Heathers started laughing as soon as the door closed behind Ms. Forester. It was the first time I truly stood up against them. I still can't imagine trying to explain such a terrible experience to 25 fourteen year olds, half of whom you know already look for excuses to make fun of you.

By the end of the year, I had become closer to Ms. Forester than most of her other students. It was always a shaky relationship, but I felt such a kinship with her. I felt we were kindred spirits trying to put up with the same awful people our first year in this huge school. I stopped by her classroom occasionally throughout my four years at Cy Creek. She got to leave the entry-level freshman classes and took on sophomores and Juniors in Chemistry, I believe.

My Senior year, I read somewhere (or someone suggested it and I actually listened) that writing notes to teachers who really impacted you would be nice. Mrs. Forester was one of the first ones I wrote. She stopped me in the hall my last week looking ecstatic and thanked me a dozen times. I don't think I have ever felt more appreciated for doing such a small thing. It's a lesson I've lost sight of, and I'm glad I thought of it today.