Two of my tributes this month have been dedicated to influential teachers that I have had. With graduation - the end of school - on the horizon (I'm talking SIXTEEN DAYS), I think it's important for me to look back on the 19 years of school that I've had and reflect on a few more teachers who have truly helped to mold me into who I am and even who I will become. There are several, so I'm just going to separate them into different posts throughout the rest of the week. Today's deserves one, really, that's all her own.
Remember Miss Honey in Matilda? That was my kindergarten teacher, Miss Ray. I'm serious... she looked like her; she treated her students just like Miss Honey treated her own. I don't remember how long Miss Ray was my teacher; I just remember she left us early for some reason. I cried the day she left (though that's not really saying much since I literally cried everyday until I was 14 years old). I think I grew so fond of her because, aside from my mother, no one had even resembled anyone who could take me under her wing.When she left, our class was split up and sent to the other kindergarten teachers. There were four options for the 20-ish students to go: Mrs. Munn, Mrs.Tenney, Miss Solorio, and Miss Hunter. (Isn't it amazing that we can remember things like this?!) My brother had Miss Hunter when he was in kindergarten and he loved her, so when I got put into her class, I was thrilled. In fact, on the day they told us which teacher's classroom we would be joining, I saw Miss Hunter on the other end of the hallway and yelled, "I'M IN YOUR CLASS!"
But even with my excitement and even as a kindergartener, I was skeptical of this change. I didn't think Miss Hunter could replace Miss Ray. I didn't think she could love me as much as Miss Ray did. I didn't think I could have as much fun with Miss Hunter as I did in Miss Ray's class.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
The best word I can use to describe Miss Hunter is joy. She laughed so much in our class; I can still remember her merry laugh. She always seemed so spry, so buoyant and youthful. She had the brightest and most contagious smile. She taught me the importance in not being a "tattle-tail." She even had a gigantic tail on the wall in the classroom that served as a warning to anyone who told on someone for the sake of telling... the "tattle-tailer" would have to wear the tale; I never saw anyone wear it. She taught me organization skills; when it would be time to go play outside, she would let me finish arranging my crayons in my Spacemaker supply box. She gave me a big ol' kiss on the cheek the day that I showed up and told her I could read and let me read "Hop On Pop" by Dr. Seuss to my class. I remember watching her radiate with delight on the back row of the "Reading Rug."
My elementary held a reunion during my senior year of high school, and I got to see Miss Hunter again; she looked as if she hadn't aged a day in the 13 years since I'd been in her class. When I hugged her, I did get a bit emotional. She always did give the best hugs. I talked to her for a good half an hour about my plans and aspirations. I remember my surprise when she nodded, almost knowingly, as she said, "Baby, if anyone can do it, you can." I saw Miss Hunter again a little over a year later, when she came to my brother's wedding reception. I watched as she beamed with pride to see Roy, who was genuinely one of her favorite students, as happy as he was married to the woman of his dreams.
Miss Hunter probably didn't realize when she took on the role of a kindergarten teacher that she was going to be as significant as she was to both my life and Roy's life and even my mom's life. When I talk about Miss Hunter to my mom, our feelings about her parallel. She made school fun. She is joy. She is happy. She is a sincere, honest, wonderful woman, and a perfect teacher.
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