O My Great Lady

Today we had a little retirement party for my favorite teacher of all time.  As one of several former students on the faculty at My Small Town High School, I was requested to offer a little speech to commemorate what she had meant to me.

Writing is one thing.... giving a speech in front of my peers is another. 

Especially one that offered so much of my soul.

In honor of Miss P., who will always be O My Great Lady to me... the following tribute is my offering today.  I hope you enjoy it.  And if you had Miss P., you'll know exactly what I mean.

P.,

I have been reflecting a lot these past few weeks on our relationship.  I remember being afraid of you stalking the halls in your LLBean slacks and penny loafers, hair swinging to and fro as you appeared to walk with great purpose.  I remember not particularly wanting to have you as a teacher, but not having a choice.  You were the only teacher who taught DE Freshman Comp!  I was your prisoner, set to be released in June when I graduated.

I was a fool.  One of the multitude of fools that you transform over the course of ten months into real, live, functioning humans who can write, read great works of literature, and become your number one fans.

You are that powerful. 

That spring something about you made me write you a love poem....  What was I thinking?  I’ve often wondered if I wrote that poem before or after you called me the day I had my tonsils out during my senior year.  I couldn’t talk, but my dad handed me the phone and told me it was you… there was no way I wasn’t going to talk to my hero, so I croaked something out and listened to you checking in on me.

I was under your spell.

For years I’ve been amazed at how well-preserved you have remained.  Finally when I saw the quilt you were given on Saturday with the pictures of you taken from decades past, I had proof.  I hate to admit it, but you really have aged.  Albeit slowly.  And very well.

P., you don’t just create relationships with your students, you create devoted followers.  Just how many teachers in our English Department are your former students?  And just where would our English Department be without you?

You touched my life in ways you cannot imagine.  Everybody knows that English teachers are coolest teachers in high school, but P., you are the coolest of the cool.  Hear this and believe it is true.  Because in my mind, and the minds of your devotees, you are. 

So this is my wish for you.  Be who you are.  Live freely.  Love freely.  Write... freely.  I am dying to read your great American novel.  You still have so much to give.  And I know you... you will give it.  It is who you are.   

Because P., in your life, the only part of you that has ever loafed is what you wear on your feet.  And we are all so tremendously thankful for that.  

Someone told me the other day that I am a great writer.  I told them that is because I had a great teacher.