Two teachers who saved me

What makes a teacher great?

As I’m thinking about this answer, two teachers come to mind. One is my 11th Grade English Mrs.Idica and the other is my college professor of creative writing, Dr.Blais.

Who knows what would have happened to these two if it wasn’t for Mrs.Idica 😭😭😭

I took Mrs.Idica’s Asian American Lit and Creative Writing class my junior year of high school. I did really well in my creative writing class but almost flunked the Asian American lit class. I remember not liking her too much at first because she pushed us to do our best and was strict. I think I did well in the creative writing class because I really loved writing poems and little short stories.  At the time, I didn’t think it was something I’d ever be passionate about but of course the class did have a great impact on me, here’s a poem I wrote in that class:

Poetry: That Night

Mrs.Idica ended up being my homebound teacher when I was on maternity leave with my first son at the beginning of my senior year.Β  That meant that for 6 weeks, she came to my house to give me my school assignments and helped me with them if I needed help. She would stay and talk to me and always encouraged me to drop out of high school and to continue on. This was important for me to hear as there was pressure from people in my family to drop out and work.Β  She could have easily just dropped off my work and not have these conversations with me but instead she showed up with the compassion and grace I needed during a really dark time in my life. She also had the patience of the saint as I trudge through my school assignments since I was an terrible student. She never gave up on me or told me my life was ruined because I had a child at such a young age. In fact, she was one of the few people who didn’t shame me and reminded me my child was a gift. The encouragement from her and her belief in me really made a difference in my life. I don’t believe I would have put so much effort that last year in high school and graduated on time. I think what made her not just a great but exceptional teacher was that she was caring, had the patience of a saint, and was this light of compassion and encouragement for me when I needed it. This is a poem I wrote about her:

poetry: saint tracey

I also want to say that I’m still in touch with her through social media where I share updates about my life and my writing. Even now, she tells me she’s proud of me and that means a lot to me.

Right after taking Dr.Blais class

Another teacher in my life who was exceptional was my creative writing professor Dr. Blais. Like Mrs.Idica, she pushed us to do our best in the class and provided a safe space for us to express ourselves creatively.I also learned to be super disciplined with my writing in her class and the editing process. She was very patient with us and in her class I wrote 3 plays and both of them won 2nd and 3rd place in the college writing competition which meant a lot to me since it was the first time I was writing plays. She also encouraged me to continue writing and even invited me to one of her playwright workshop groups but I couldn’t go due to family obligations. Also, her class was my favorite escape from my busy mom life that included 2 small kids and 3 part time jobs at the time. It was a crazy time in my life where my mental health was a bit touch and go but going to Dr.Blais class helped me cope. Like, Mrs.Idica,Β  Dr.Blais saw potential in me and encouraged me and was incredibly patient in kneading the writer out of me. I think taking her class validated my passion for writing. Especially when the last assignment was making a book which I titled “My Quarter Life Crises” . I felt accomplished in making that little book of my poems and plays. Here’s a link to one of the plays I wrote in her class:

Play: Choices

Unfortunately, I lost touch with my Dr.Blais after college and can’t seem to find her anywhere.Β  Last I heard is that she’s had success as a playwright in New York.

I think I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have had two educators show up in my life who made a positive impact on effect. It doesn’t always happen that way (thinking about my super condescending English professor at UGA- but that’s another blog post) . It’s hard to imagine who I would have become without both of them.

Me at another poetry event

Play-Transition: Scene Two

Here is a link to the first scene:https://wp.me/p23LY2-1qp

Scene 2: 

SETTING: Landon’s apartment. The aesthetic in this apartment is minimalist There are no stray things around. There is a very expensive looking sculpture. Landon has a very simple geometric painting. There is a glass coffee table at the center and really sparse furniture. CHLOE is at the door ready to knock. LANDON is in an expensive jog suit and on his laptop writing a business negotiation. 

CHLOE knocks tentatively on LANDON’s door, Landon looks through his smallish peephole, sighs deeply, plasters a forced smile on his face and opens the door. 

LANDON: Chloe, hi! To what do I owe the pleasure of having my little sister come over here unannounced. Do you want a drink ?

CHLOE: (goes to sit down slowly on the expensive chair) No…uhh..I wouldn’t have come over if I didn’t think it was important. 

LANDON: Well, you know, you could always send me a text or call me.

CHLOE: You never answer your phone or reply to my texts. Besides, this is really important. 

LANDON: Well, you know, I’m a busy guy. You could have a little more consider-

CHLOE gets frustrated and yells.

CHLOE: It’s about dad!

LANDON: Jesus! You’re on that business again. I thought I had already made it clear to you what needs to be done.

CHLOE: No,you didn’t. You’ve skirted around the issue without resolving anything.

LANDON: What is there to resolve? He seems okay living by himself. 

CHLOE: You only see him once a month at the most . He’s struggling and doesn’t want to admit it. He’s not only holding on to mom’s old stuff but is accumulating new stuff as a way to deal with his grief. And to make matters worse, the landlord is about to put him out. We need to reason with him. 

LANDON: How is the landlord going to put him out ? I give the old biddy a little something extra so she doesn’t bother him. 

CHLOE: You don’t understand.It’s not about money, they want him out because dad has basically made the place a hazard. We need to help dad. 

LANDON: And what is your suggestion. Einstein?

CHLOE: Well, you know, he could always move in with you.

LANDON: Like hell he can. Listen, I got a better suggestion. I put up the money, you make all the arrangements and we put him in one of those assisted living places. He’ll be surrounded by –

CHLOE: Are you nuts? A nursing home because you don’t want your life inconvenience

LANDON: I don’t see what’s so badβ€”

CHLOE: It will kill him! He will hate it. You can’t always just throw money at every fucking problem. You are such a selfish jerk. 

LANDON: And you are a mindless little idiot. Are you done now?

CHLOE: (feeling rather defeated and sighs) Will you at least come with me to reason with him. He won’t listen to me but at least he will listen to you, his favorite child.

LANDON: Sure. I need to see when I’m free. Maybe next week, I could pencil somethingβ€”

CHLOE: God damnit! Don’t you understand that the situation is urgent? He could be out on the street by the end of the week.

LANDON: Must you always be such a drama queen?

CHLOE: Ugh..there no use talking to you (Chloe mutters under breath, you just don’t fucking care)

LANDON: What did you say?

CHLOE: Nothing.

LANDON: Fine, I’ll go with you this Wednesday afternoon.

CHLOE: Okay.

CHLOE  slams the door and sighs deeply.