Rosemarie D. Embile
WHEN we think back to school, we often remember the big milestones — graduation ceremonies, report cards, school awards, and achievements. But sometimes, it’s the quiet, unexpected moments that shape us most.
I was in sixth grade when my teacher gave us a seatwork: write an essay about what we wanted to be when we grew up — a simple enough task. But I didn’t do it, for reasons I still can’t fully explain. Not because I couldn’t. I just didn’t want to — maybe I wasn’t in the mood, maybe I didn’t feel inspired, or maybe I didn’t realize yet how important that moment was.
When the class ended, I thought that was it. But my teacher thought otherwise.
She didn’t let me go to the next class. Instead, she asked me to stay behind. At first, it felt like a punishment — like I was being singled out for not doing the work. I sat there, unsure and a little embarrassed. But it wasn’t about punishment. It was her quiet way of showing me that I could do more. That my voice mattered.
So I stayed, and I wrote. Slowly. Unwillingly, at first. But word by word, something began to take shape — my own thoughts, my own future.
The next day, she told me to read my essay in front of the class. Nervous but encouraged, I stood and shared what I had written. When I finished, she looked at me and told the class, “That is how you write an essay.”
I’ve never forgotten that.
Now that I’m a teacher myself, I share that story with my students. I tell them how I once didn’t want to write, how I doubted the value of putting my thoughts on paper. And how one teacher changed that — not by giving up on me, but by staying with me.
Because writing isn’t just about words. It’s about discovering your own voice. It’s about being seen.
I also learned patience, belief, and the value of doing the work — not just for a grade, but for growth.
To that teacher who didn’t let me walk away — thank you. You didn’t just teach me how to write. You taught me how to believe in my own voice.
And now, as a teacher, I carry that lesson forward.
As we celebrate Teacher Appreciation Week, I honor her — and every teacher who stays a little longer, sees a little deeper, and believes a little more.
Thank you, teachers. Your impact goes far beyond the classroom.
