Worth it. Almost.

It's no secret to anyone who knows me that my time as a high school English teacher was, well, let's say trying. I really miss my students and the actual teaching part, but I just didn't have the constitution to shrug off the non-stop abuse from the parents. I just could never bring myself to accept that getting yelled at was a part of the job.

I was a tough teacher. I was tough because I cared very, very much about my students. I was there to do a job. Not be their friend, or their enabler, or their ego boost. My job was to teach them English. When they moved on to 10th grade, they would be better readers, better writers, better speakers, better testers and most importantly, better thinkers. And, I was good at my job.

This was not met with universal joy from the students, and even less from their parents. My basic attitude was that they could kiss my ass. If they wanted English to be easy, they should have not signed up for an honors class.

Well, long story short. Sticking to my principles and high academic standards was hard. After four years, my choices were to start handing out "A"s like candy at Halloween or to find a different job. At the end of the day, I felt I owed it to my students to try my best, so I quit. It took me 10 years to work my way through college to earn my teaching degree. It took the system four years to make me quit. I'm more than a little bitter, if that had been abundantly clear.

Well, the other day some of that bitterness abated.

I was in the public classroom at work preparing to cook for our Team Members. The room is separated from the cafe only by a glass wall. Very fishbowl-like. Well, a girl in her early 20s walked in. Customers do that sometimes, looking for condiments or the public class schedule. But she was there to see me. She had been in my English class in my second year.

She just wanted to tell me that she appreciated my effort in her education. She just graduated from college, and said that her writing was often complimented - and that she believes it is because of me. She still reads Shakespeare. For fun. Also something that she gives me credit for. Before she left to rejoin her family, she said that she just wanted to thank me for everything I did for her.

I wish I had words for how this warmed my heart, but I don't.

I do, however, have words for the sadness that came along with it. The fact is that too many teachers who have high standards aren't doing it anymore. Every parent who has mistreated a teacher can go fuck themselves.