Quit has never really been in my vocabulary. Honestly, I have always felt like it’s better to suck it up and push through… Which is exactly what I was doing my entire senior year of high school. I had been sick, and I mean really sick. In and out of the hospital, trying to get my migraines under control, managing somewhat of a social life, and dating the worst possible guy for me. But I was pushing through. Only having 4 classes each day made things much easier at this time, because I was able to communicate with my teachers and they all really knew me… Well at least all but one.
In November of 2011 I was in the hospital for almost half of that month. That also happened to be when we were studying Beowulf and preparing our “senior research papers” in my English class. Now, this teacher, we’ll call her Mrs. K, had it out for me from the get go. Really. She really had something against me, but I could never figure out why. She would not even acknowledge me or my existence in her classroom. Being in the hospital meant I really needed extra help from my teachers in order to stay on track to graduate in January (I chose to graduate early). I had been out of school for the entire week before my Beowulf paper was due. I had no peer reviews, no teacher reviews, and in all honestly, the paper was doomed. I asked her for help the day before it was due. She looked me in the eyes and told me that she was too busy, and I should not have procrastinated. Uh? Oh? Sorry, I was hooked up to IVs and undergoing constant body scans the last few days, but I understand that you’re “busy.” I turned my paper in anyways.
In the beginning of class the next day she called me to her desk and asked me if I was “planning to try to even go to college,” because I’d “be better off doing something that didn’t require me to really write formally, ever again,” and that I “should probably quit before I even started.” Holding back tears I just went to my seat. After the verbal beating she privately thrashed me with, she proceed to address the ENTIRE class and told everyone just how awful my paper was. She then proceeded to tell another teacher, whom she knew I was close with… I was devastated. How embarrassing. Not only was my body trying to kill me, but my English teacher was trying to ruin my academic reputation.
I passed her class with a low C.
Fast forward to now, in my 3rd year of college. I have never received less than an A on any writing assignment or paper I have turned in. I have helped countless peers write their papers. I have proof read, edited, and re edited more papers than I could ever imagine. I’ve taken honors writing classes and guess what? My minor? Yeah, it’s journalism.
So thank you To The Teacher Who Told Me To Quit, Mrs. K, who still, to this day, teaches English at Hebron High School, thank you for telling me I should quit, because just like every 18 year old, I went and did the opposite of what I was told, and I’m rocking at it!
