APUSH - 8/29

HOME IS A CLASSROOM [transcript]

One of my favorite places in the world is a classroom. The room has five folding tables arranged in a circle, with mismatched chairs scattered haphazardly around them. The ceiling is plastered from corner to corner with posters depicting the problems that plague our government, and the walls are covered with quotes and students’ artwork. The classroom belongs to Andy Merritt, my high school government teacher.

I met Andy at the beginning of my senior year. I was just another one of hundreds of students to pass through his classes, yet through the year, we grew close. In November, I sat with him at a table and he talked me through one of my college essays, which a quote on his wall inspired. We tasked ourselves with exploring Emiliano Zapata’s statement, “it is better to die on your feet than live on your knees.” By March, Andy had become the first person I called when I found out I got in. We spent countless hours in that classroom, discussing everything from the presidential election to my personal life to politics in the Middle East. I even painted my favorite quote from To Kill a Mockingbird on his wall: “real courage is when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.”

Andy opened his classroom to me whenever I needed it. The day I got rejected from my dream school, he let me sit there and cry; he hugged me and told me he was still proud of me no matter what. He let me skip class and stay there when my mother was in the hospital, and didn’t question when I needed to turn in an essay late or spend class watching Parks and Rec. His classroom became my home away from home. It was a place I could return to any time of day, one where I always felt supported and never needed to hide what I was feeling. It was his space–characterized by his unconditional love–but it became mine too.

At the end of the year, I sent Andy an email with the subject line “i am sad.” I expressed to him my gratitude for all he had done for me that year–for the advice, for the coffee, and for making a space where I felt I belonged. Andy responded, “me and my class are simply a stop on your travels. my role is pretty simple, see the potential in young people, offer them the opportunity to see it themselves and then encourage them to change the world.”

Perhaps teachers see their classrooms as just another stop on our travels. But I believe these classrooms, the kindness and stability they provide, do so much more than just give us a place to rest our weary bones. They bring love and light into the lives of students like me; they give us space for our curiosity, and hope for our future. Classrooms are special–and so are teachers like Andy.

milanliu