A Thank You Note
Dear students,
I’m not going to say that it’s been an honour, because, really, we all know that there is hardly any honour in yelling at the top of your lungs, or in being banished from class, or in having to stand in the corner wearing an “I can’t behave” sign. But I will say that teaching you, and talking to you, and becoming friends with you, has changed my life. I will say that, because of you, I have come to love being a teacher. Now I’m leaving (sort of), but I want you to know that you have all been so important to me. I’ve learned, in this year and a half, that you all are never really as young as you seem. You are surprisingly intelligent and thoughtful and every day one of you reminds me that you deserve to be treated as such. You are fiercely loyal and emotional creatures, and I realize that this is something that we often forget to embrace.
Sometimes I look at you and I become so frustrated because, having known you for so long and having seen you interact with so many different groups of people, I realize how little you all value yourselves. And I can’t blame you, because you are all unfortunate enough to be growing up in a staunchly patriarchal, sexist, gender-biased society, but I can tell you what I have learned. Where you are growing up is exactly where I grew up. Unfortunately, it took me many years of high school and college to see that we are actually valuable, not for how many kilograms we weigh, or for how long our hair is, or for how weak and demure we can act around men, but for what we can bring to the table with our ideas and our opinions and the application of our knowledge. It took me too long to realize that the more I value myself and the more I stand up for myself, the more I am able to be myself and I am able to be confident and satisfied. And really, the more confident you are, the more comfortable you are with yourself, the more people will actually like you. In the end, our self-esteem rests on what we think of ourselves, not on what other people think of us.
I’m telling you this because it makes me want to cry when I hear you guys making fun of each other’s shoes or weight or looks when you could be celebrating the amazing and passionate and compassionate people you really are. And I’m not just saying it; I know almost all of you well enough, and I have thought about it enough to know that each of you has so much to offer, and most of you just don’t realize it. You are so much more thoughtful and wonderful and talented and funny and intelligent and brilliant than you give yourselves credit for. There is no comparison, because you are all unique and equally valuable.
I’m telling you these things because ten years ago I wish somebody had said these things to me. I wish somebody had told me that my life would be happier if I looked at new girls not as potential threats to my self-confidence, but as potential friends and allies. We need to stop letting pop culture or this patriarchal society tell us how girls should be. We are not just the woman that stands behind every successful man; we are not just ornaments; we are not all looks and meek behavior. We are people that are worth more than society gives us credit for. We are constantly told that we are less valuable than men; this is a message that is consistently and constantly reinforced by EVERYONE, and this is what we need to fight against. And the best way to do it is to see women for what they’re really worth, not for what we are told to think they are worth, superficially.
I know some of you are thinking that I’m saying this because it’s the right thing to say. I have hardly, in my two and a half semesters here, considered myself a teacher and you my students. Always, you have been like little sisters to me – varied, surprising little sisters, and I consider myself fortunate to have so many siblings. So I don’t say this to you as my students, I say this to you as my dozens of little Nidas, exactly as I say to the real Nida – sometimes you are annoying and I make you cry and I don’t want you anywhere near me but always I love you and I don’t think you’re fat and I think you are equally valuable and beautiful and talented and I wish I wish I wish you could see yourselves through my eyes.
On this note, I want to apologize to those of you I was unfair to, or to whom I didn’t impart as much attention as you deserved. I hope, if ever I did anything wrong, or made you cry, you can understand that although I was in the position of teacher I was new at this and I am still young and I am still learning, and I never intentionally or maliciously meant you any harm. I know that I cannot be in your lives forever, but we live in a very small world now, and I hope that you will remember me, and keep me in your lives, somehow. A year is a short time but you were my first taste of the real world, and I would not have had it any other way. Thank you for (sometimes) listening to me and liking my bad haircuts and trusting me and letting me be a bigger part of your lives than my title deserved. See you at hot spot, probably!
