Growing up, people told me that I was too weird to ever find a guy who would marry me. I was told that I'd have to find a guy who could "tolerate" me, and that I would have to be the one to propose.
My art teacher in high school told me that the man I'd wind up marrying would probably be a serial killer.
I didn't take French class, but I used to talk to the French teacher at my school because we both were French. When couple of kids told me that the teacher invited me to a French class party before winter break, I followed them to the classroom and began grabbing food from the buffet.
I went up to thank the teacher for inviting me to the party, but she just gave me one of the dirtiest looks ever and said, "Take your plate and leave the classroom."
It turns out she never invited me, and that a bunch of kids decided to pull a prank on me. I never talked to the teacher again.
And that's what stuck with me, even 12 years later.
I was in one of my last semesters of nursing school with a teacher who was known to play favorites. We were doing a simulation on a mannequin, and I had to start an IV with supplies I wasn't familiar with. I stopped for a moment to look at the equipment, and the teacher said to everyone, "That's the kind of nurse we do this to!" She then proceeded to push me aside and do the simulation herself.
I dropped her class the next day and then went on to become an amazing nurse.
I'm a singer, actress and artist with a passion for theater. I majored in Musical Theater for 3 semesters, all while minoring in Studio Art, being an Honors student, maintaining a 4.0 GPA, and earning a reputation as the most hardworking and respectful student in my class. I was sure I had found my calling in life.
Imagine my shock when, after confidently performing at Evaluation, I was discreetly taken to my professor's office and told that I didn't pass, and I wouldn't be allowed to continue my major.
Because of my anxiety issues.
Because of the bites on my arms from panic attacks.
Because they thought I was too damaged-goods to survive in the industry.
Well guess what?
I just performed in Hamlet, and an expert authority on Shakespeare in the audience said it was, "The best college production of [ANYTHING they] had ever seen," and called it "professional."
Oh, and don't get get me started on the number of famous actors who suffer every day from anxiety and mental disorder and still kick ass.
So, yes, as long as I live I will never forget the moment my professor I looked up to told me I couldn't do it. Yes, it will haunt me for years to come.
But with God as my witness, it will not define me.
I could never commit to school. I've always been very anxious and weird, and of course that's blood in the water for the horrific nightmare sharks that are children.
The one thing I actually liked doing was writing, because I could express myself without feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious.
A teacher that I genuinely liked and respected, who I think came to know me exclusively through the essays I turned in, once told me, "You're the winning team. People root for you."
I don't necessarily think there's anyone screaming my name from the bleachers, but for one meaningful second, I felt like maybe things would be okay.
My birthday is in September, so I was just 11 years old when I started 7th grade. My Spanish teacher was going over the lesson, and I kept mispronouncing several words. She finally exploded at me in front of the class and said, "What kind of a retarded freak are you?"
I turned bright red while more than 60 eyes zeroed in on my agony.
Later that day, I went home and just cried. Cried and cried. My parents were the type that felt the teacher could do no wrong. It was the first time in my life someone other than family had made me feel so worthless and useless.
Somehow, I made it through 7th grade and the Spanish language well enough to become fluent in it.
Years later, I became a New York City teacher. I spent about 30% of my time as a teacher speaking Spanish with students, most of whom were from Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic.
In my last year teaching before I retired, a student asked me why I became a teacher. It was at that very moment I actually realized why.
I never wanted another child to be publicly humiliated by a teacher like I was by my 7th grade Spanish teacher.
Has anyone ever made a fleeting comment about you that immediately became tattooed onto the front of your brain for all of eternity, impacting your self-perception and self-worth? Whether it was an offhand comment made by someone you love and respect or a fleeting declaration by someone you barely know, we share the moments that stick.
