Ugh, I’m really sad today. I found out a couple hours ago that my middle school arts teacher, Linda Bryant, passed away this morning. She’d taught art at that middle school for 38 years.
Ms. Bryant was a force in my life. She was my cheerleader and defender at a time in my life when I didn’t have many of those, and desperately needed them. I spent hours with her, on breaks and after school, talking about life and honing my writing skills. She read many of my pieces, and always provided thoughtful critiques and encouragement. I edited the middle-school magazine with her as the faculty supervisor. I’m pretty sure, in eighth grade, that magazine was composed 75% of my writing and drawings. “They should just call it the Sasha magazine,” joked a friend at the time. But Ms. Bryant insisted that all those pieces be included. “There’s nothing else as good as your stuff,” she said. Other students resented her favoritism toward me. But she loved me so much, and I loved her back.
Ms. Bryant told me I would be a writer when I grew up. “I’m going to be an astronaut, or a computer programmer,” I told her. “No, dear,” she said. “You’re going to be a writer.” She was, of course, correct. I tried the other careers, but I ended up back at writing.
I’ve since, on several occasions, had the opportunity to thank her for things she did for me, but I don’t feel like it was enough. Those years are a difficult time for everyone, but I think they were especially rough on me. I just had so many ideas about who I was and no sense of how to combine them into a single coherent person that could function in the world. I was a very lost little girl. Ms. Bryant gravitated toward young women like me, and she steered us. She held our hands through that time in our lives. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that she always taught middle school. It’s such an incredibly difficult time in a bright, creative young woman’s life. Ms. Bryant thrived on being a light and a guide for me, and for other young women like me. I have thanked her for supporting my creative endeavors. I have thanked her for encouraging me to write. I have never thanked her for being a true friend at a time when I didn’t have many. I have never thanked her for defending me at a time when I was a difficult and angry and impetuous young woman with few defenders. I have never acknowledged that she saw through all that and nurtured the child and the talent beneath all the anger.
I always assumed Ms. Bryant would be at my first book party, smiling and cheering me on. I just always pictured her there. I always imagined she’d watch my career unfold, congratulating herself on the woman I’d become. I told my mother that when I heard the news. “She will be at your book party,” my mom said, “watching over you from above.”
I think that’s probably true. She’ll have a better vantage point from there anyway. But I’m so sad that she’s gone, and I’m so sad that other young women at that school won’t have the opportunity to have her as their teacher and guide. I don’t know what I would have been without her. It’s such a great loss. You will be missed, Ms. Bryant. Thank you, for everything.
That’s a lovely post.
I didn’t know that you tried being an astronaut!! :)
JK… seriously, that was really touching. Your teacher sounds amazing.
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss.
I had a teacher similar to that, only it was 3rd grade and no one had really hit the crazy, scary parts yet, but I do remember that being the only year of school I was sad to see end and to this day I still remember her (Mrs. Sherry Vincent) as the first teacher I’d ever had encourage me and help me come out of my shell.
When I was first nominated for the National Dean’s List in college they had an option where you could list a teacher you felt was an inspiration so I googled her and hunted down the last school she worked at.
She had passed away from cancer less than 6 months before I emailed the school, she couldn’t have been more than 50 years old.
I’m so happy for you that you did get a chance to thank Ms. Bryant for being there for you, I’m sure it meant the world to her to see how far you’ve come from that little girl who needed her, and even though you never got a chance to tell her some of the ways you felt about her I bet you she knew.
Also, I agree with your mom, she’ll still be there. :)
I’m sorry to hear about the passing of your mentor. I noticed that you updated a storm today on your affliated sites-which I love, because your writing is what drew me to evilbeet in the first place. Know that your writing is warm, inviting, giggling, and just plain draws me in, in a way that self-aggrandizing blogs just never will.
it seems like a big part of life that people never seem to mention, the passing of our favourite teachers. It’s a bitter sweet reality for early adulthood. It’s great to mention it on a relatively public forum like this, the more we each talk about it the more (much needed) respect teachers will get. Myself and my peers lost one of our favourites this year, his influence is infinite.
As an avid reader of this site (and evilbeet and Zelda Lily) I must say that this post has really touched me in a way that no other posts ever have. As a teacher I am so happy to see that what we as teachers do, really does make some small change in the world. It means a lot to me and other teachers who read your sites.
I am also so glad on another level that this person helped guide you to write for a living. Your three sites really help me out when I’m down. I remember having a silly fight on the comments page one day about how you only wrote a gossip blog and how wrong I was to come here expecting something above just crass, mean spirited fluff pieces but it is so hard to explain to others how your sites are not like other gossip sites or even other blogs.
Anyway, thanks for sharing this wonderful post.
I know how you feel. Hadn’t it been for my French teacher at college (14 to 18 years) I wouldn’t be studying Translating and Interpreting at University. Inspirational teachers are so valuable and needed.