The High School English Teacher Who Introduced Me to Shakespeare

And became my literary spirit guide

“”To be or not to be (a writer) — that is the question.”

- Hamlet, Act III, Scene I.

I fondly remember a high school English teacher, but her name escapes me. She’s my ghost now — a soft-spoken woman with glasses in her early thirties who became my spirit guide.

Her writing assignment inspired me to use my imagination. It was a class on Shakespeare, and our job was to create another scene from the play Hamlet. My peers complained that it was too difficult for high schoolers, but I enthusiastically took on the challenge.

“You could write whatever you want,” she said, “as long as it relates to Hamlet.”

Those simple words triggered me to pen something funny and satirical from my unique perspective of the world.

I don’t remember the title of the scene or the details, but I recall having fun doing it — one of the few high school assignments I felt comfortable handing in. The teacher was so pleased that she spoke to me after class.

“Mark, I believe you have a talent — let me work with you to improve your composition skills.”

I was flattered she had faith in me, but I had other interests back then. My friends were more important, and I was at the stage where kissing girls and playing the drums were at the top of my extracurricular activity list.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, although more tactfully. My creativity would have to wait. I don’t know who was more disappointed with that answer — the teacher or me.

It wasn’t the right time. My teenage brain was full of distractions, and my hyper body needed to be on the move. Writing was about staying still and thinking — two things I didn’t do well at eighteen. My life was more about having fun and riding a motorcycle than honing my English skills during after-school hours.

A teacher taking a special interest in me happened rarely. I knew I was a fool for refusing her assistance, but I couldn’t help it. In those years, my brain was wired for pleasure — not literature. I would have jumped at the opportunity if I had been more mature.

I may not have taken her literary guidance that afternoon, but her praiseful words changed my life. She planted an idea in my head that I could write. She gave me the confidence to combine a few words that resonated with people, not solely for pleasure. When I secretly filled my notebook with poetry during melancholy nights, I enjoyed it but didn’t think it was worthy of public view. When the teacher told me I had some talent, I looked at my poems in a new way — and vowed to realize this talent when I had the mental space.

When Shakespeare’s Hamlet died from a poisonous sword, my passion for writing was born.

If I could only remember the teacher’s name who inspired me, I’d look her up on Facebook and send her a note of thanks in Elizabethan English.

© 2022 Mark Tulin

Here are two more Thank You’s from Mark: