An education
I feel that there are few careers that allow you to directly spark and shape the world (yes, yes, I’m sure you, brilliant reader, could name quite a few, but still…), which is why I become sick to the stomach when teachers from my high school die. When you’re 16 years old and you just got in a fight with your parents because you crashed the car and your SAT score doesn’t look good enough and you’re convinced that your friends could care less about you, you probably don’t want to draw cell membranes or sit in class discussing the Civil War. But then, all you need is that one teacher who sets on fire that inner spark within you that wants to learn more, and that can change your entire life.
I’ve been thinking about education a lot lately, because even here in Paris, I can find no greater joy than the tireless passion of academia. I don’t know why I become so happy when I’m sitting in class, but I know it wouldn’t have been possible without the foundation set by my high school teachers. I still remember the first time I shamelessly ran to my locker after school so that I could plunk down and finish The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
And with that, I say, RIP Ms. M — I am a little less heartbroken because I look at my Facebook newsfeed and I see the products of your labor continuing to strive for great things in college and for the rest of their lives.
