Teachers Aren’t Supposed to Have Bad Days

Her breakdown taught me a valuable lesson

I don’t remember much about what Ms. D used to teach; it was elementary school, so she juggled a little bit of everything in her classroom. She rarely smiled, not in a mean way, but with a focused look every time. She wasn’t strict, but she would definitely point out if you did something wrong.

She meant well when she asked you to solve a problem or answer a question in front of the entire classroom. That was her way of showing that she cared and believed in you by putting you in the spot sort of speak. We respected her.

Whenever she graced us with a smile, it was like catching a rare gem, something so contagious and unexpected that it made you feel like you were her absolute favorite student, soaking in the glow of her genuine happiness.

One day I’ll always remember, Ms. D was not in a good mood. It was so bad I didn’t even want to look at her. She seemed stressed and overwhelmed. At that time, I didn’t even know what being stressed felt like; I just heard adults use that word when they felt sad.

Ms. D didn’t seem like she wanted to be there.

She told us to hide our things where she couldn’t see them, put her head down on her desk for a moment, then lifted it back up. She left the classroom, had a brief conversation with another teacher across the hall, and returned with a plan. Her mind seemed elsewhere. Closing the door, she instructed us to only take out a sheet of paper and a pencil.

Once the classroom settled and the shuffling of book bags stopped, a quiet anticipation filled the room. Ms. D sensed we were eager for her next instruction. While we searched for our sheet of paper and pencil, she listed everyone’s first and last names on the blackboard from 1–22.

Our task: write down the numbers one through twenty-two, and for each number, jot down one thing we liked about that person — whether physical or how that person made us feel. Despite the initial confusion, the entire class followed without complaints.

For each name on the board, I wrote a compliment — some highlighting physical features, others praising the way my classmates treated me or made me feel. All positive vibes, of course.

When we finished, she quietly gathered our sheets, hinting at a mysterious plan. She said she would gather all the kind words on separate sheets. The catch? We wouldn’t know who said what — just a collection of positive sentiments from our classmates.

The next day, she was in a much better mood, appearing refreshed and more cheerful. She carefully wrote down compliments from various students on a single sheet, making it clear for each of us to read.

When I received mine, it held a collection of twenty-two heartwarming compliments and affirmations from my classmates. Faces lit up, laughter echoed across the room as we read through the positive remarks. At that moment, she led us to reflect on our feelings, urging us to explore our self-awareness.

Can you guys guess who wrote what about you?

She kept highlighting the importance of this short yet impactful lesson, stressing that it’s okay to share our feelings with those around us, promoting honesty and kindness.

Even as children, she reminded us that we would eventually grow up, possibly losing our willingness to be vulnerable and keeping emotions bottled up. Emphasizing that tomorrow’s never promised, she encouraged us not to wait and delay expressing our thoughts or emotions with others.

I never found out what really happened with Ms. D that day, why she decided to change our curriculum last minute; instead, she taught us a life lesson that would stick with me forever.

I always wondered: did someone close to her passed away? Maybe someone broke her heart? A family member disowned her? Was she mad at herself for something she did? All I know is that I hold that lesson close to my heart, and if she knew that today, she would be shocked. She would smile once again and be so proud.

© Darlene López 2024. All Rights Reserved.