Thank You For The Music, Ms. Smith.

Let me attempt to make a comparison/simile/metaphor/connection/(insert literary device here) that makes sense.

The role of a teacher is comparable to a musical conductor. Her classroom is her concert hall; her books are her sheets; her students are the members of her orchestra. Also, for at least an hour and a half of the day, the teacher and orchestra come together to practice and play the music. 

It’s not easy being the conductor of the orchestra. Not every player will have their sheets or their instruments ready. I’m not even sure if the conductor herself has every material she needs ready. (It’s not because she’s not preparing. It’s mostly because of government cuts on cultural programs). On rare occasions, she may not have her concert hall available for her—which rings true when reminded by the fact that a pandemic is still looming at the time of writing this article. 

Given these rather annoyingly unavoidable setbacks, which are part of a series of unfortunate circumstances, the conductor will have to adapt. She’ll have to find a way to make high-quality cellos out of yarn and plywood, or write every note and time signature on hundreds of blank music sheets. Sometimes, she’ll have to tolerate the difficulties to push through one day at a time.

This is how I see the role of a teacher. I’m not sure if Ms. Smith would agree that her job as an English teacher is the same as a musical conductor. Perhaps her job’s even harder than I think it is. I can’t say for sure. What I can say for sure is that the roles of teacher and conductor have the same purpose: to create a space. 

The conductor’s tasked to create a space where the polar opposites of music can all coalesce into a beautiful symphony. In a sense, Ms. Smith has had to face the same challenge every year for over a decade, attempting to bring out the special talents of her students and combine them to realize a meaningful classroom experience.
A conductor, however, doesn’t have to deal with children. Ms. Smith doesn’t only have to deal with children at work, she has to deal with the intellectually superior yet more immature version of children: the teenagers.

What horror.

I’ve seen enough movies and shows, as well as just reminding myself of some of the classes I had throughout high school, that being around teenagers is not particularly pleasant. The hormones, the mischief and the disgusting smell that sometimes strongly permeates from the boys who refuse to wear deodorant must be agonizing for a teacher to encounter daily. I do wonder why someone would become a teacher despite knowing the consequences.

“I think that from a very young age, I was very interested in helping other people,” Ms. Smith told me. “And I like the idea of a classroom [and] being part of something. That sense of belonging is very important to me in my personal life but also [in] my professional life, so creating a space where people feel safe...I wanted to be part of something like that.”

She acknowledges the need for such a space because to her, it’s a necessity for lots of people who are struggling. “I think that a lot of people—and especially when we’re teenagers, we’re looking for a sense of belonging,” she said. “Maybe things aren’t always perfect at home.” When she was still in school, Ms. Smith had friends who didn’t have the greatest home life and therefore needed somewhere to feel special. “As soon as people feel safe and have that sense of belonging, they learn more and shine.”

It must be noted that the path to deciding that teacher was for her wasn’t clear-cut. Ms. Smith seriously considered being a vet, and I can very much see her as a vet. You know, I have a very good sense of whether someone’s an animal person. Ms. Smith clearly is an animal person. It also helps that I know that she has pets, but that’s beside the point. 

Unfortunately, there were some clear roadblocks in that path to possibly becoming a vet. “The blood and guts didn’t bother me,” she said. “It was just that not everyone’s dog is as cute as my dog, and some of them smell really bad.” The evils of Chemistry 12 also dissuaded her from being a vet, which is rather understandable for me given the marks I got for those kinds of classes.

Along the way, Ms. Smith was fortunate to have examples of good teaching from her own teachers, which swayed her to becoming one herself. “I guess along the way, there was a lot of inspiration around me. Some pretty special people that made me want to teach.” One of those special people was her Grade 11 lit. teacher. Even after all these years, they still kept in touch and got to know each other on a more personal level. “She was actually at my wedding...shared pictures and things like that.” 

The influence of Ms. Smith’s English teacher eventually found its way into Ms. Smith’s teaching habits and ideas. “I often sit on the front desk and I put my feet up on my chair ‘cause I don’t like to stand. It’s as if I’m preaching. And so if I sit, then I’m talking with the class instead of talking at the class. And I think of her, which is the silliest thing.” Some of her teacher’s posters, including a Renoir picture placed above her computer, are also in her classroom.

What made her English teacher special was the care put into the teaching. “[She] really wanted to know you as a person,” she said. “She was teaching me how to read literature really well, but I think her greatest qualities were that sort of care and compassion.” Ms. Smith then continued, “I always just think of her ‘cause she just made that sense of community.”

Despite the encouragement and support from those around her, including her teachers, becoming one wasn’t always smooth-sailing—particularly during her first year. “[It was] very overwhelming—and they say there’s a [high] turnaround. A lot of people don’t make it five years,” Ms. Smith said. It must be noted that people aren’t particularly prepared for the onslaught of effort they’ll have to endure. “It is an obscene amount of work. There’s not a lot given to you when you start teaching...You start and you literally have nothing. Your filing cabinet is empty, except maybe some resources people have shared with you.” The rough-start experience did not exclude Ms. Smith at all. “The beginning was really hard. I get here at six-thirty in the morning, and I’d still be here at six-thirty at night. It was a lot.”

Even with the rather arduous labour Ms. Smith had to do in her first years, she “loved it” and was “passionate” about what she was doing at the time. In fact, she was ready to become a teacher for the long haul despite the work;  she never second-guessed her choice of becoming a teacher. “I saw down the road [that] I was going to get my own classroom. I’m gonna get those posters and quotes on the wall, and I’m gonna get there. The drive was there.” 

One thing that Ms. Smith has been lucky in her teaching career is that she has met some “special and amazing” people in her classroom and the staff room. Fortunately, Ms. Smith was able to get and give support from fellow teachers of Burnaby North’s English department, sharing resources, rubrics and other assignment ideas. “I think that the more people share and collaborate, the better the whole system is for everyone.”

One of those fellow teachers who supported and inspired Ms. Smith was Ms. Bettles, who was my Grade 8 English Honours teacher. I must admit that I can’t particularly remember many things about my time in Ms. Bettles’ class, but what I do remember was that her classroom became the starting point of my creativity. One of our first assignments was to create a scene where two characters were arguing about something. I don’t recall what the fight scene was about, but I do remember playing the role of the basic blonde girl with the valley-girl accent. I remember the reaction in the room. It was great. I’m sure if people were laughing at me or with me, but I loved the atmosphere. So I have to thank Ms. Bettles for giving me that small chance to shine.

Ms. Smith and I briefly reflected on Ms. Bettles as a teacher, who is retiring at the end of the 2020-2021 school year. Ms. Smith was more than enthusiastic to share her praise for her colleague. “She’s been very inspiring to me,” Ms. Smith admitted. “On a colleague level, she’s so close to retiring and she’s still reading everything and creating new resources. I really am very inspired by her.” She hopes that when she’s close to retirement, she becomes someone who resembles Ms. Bettles: a woman whose stride is not meant to be broken. 

Her students have also been nothing short of amazing as well. (The list of students also includes me, but that’s not the point.) “I’ve had quite a few students along the way who kind of have this spark about them, and you’re kind of like, ‘You know what, you’re off to do great things.’ And I don’t always mean because they’re going to make so much money. It’s not about that. They have this enthusiasm and this genuine interest in learning. There’s something—I don’t know, a few of them [have] a spark in their eye, and you say, ‘You know what, you’re going places,’ and you can see that.’”

The list of the Burnaby North alumni that have gone through Ms. Smith's classes is a remarkable one; some have gone to study business in Sauder, Beedie or Ivey, while some are pursuing their dreams of being nurses and computer science graduates. There are a few names on that list that I would consider notable (which includes me, but again, that’s not the main point).

I can only speak for myself, but I think that I can speak for many of her students when I say that she’s a good teacher. To me, Ms. Smith is great; but maybe not everyone agrees, so I’ll just say that the consensus is that she’s a good teacher. I highly think she’s wonderful, but let’s push the difference aside.

English has been a rose with a lot of thorns during my time in high school. I hated the analytical writing essays. I hated the annotating. I hate the boring history that we had to learn about the dead, white men who wrote about pompous ideas. I hated those parts. Despite those thorns, however, I was able to tolerate them since I had amazing English teachers during my time in high school. 

I can’t say that my days have been free of tiresome problems and annoyances. Not at all. It’s riddled with mould worth removing. I can’t say that I felt like I belonged to many places or groups. I wouldn’t say that I’m a complete outsider, but I wouldn’t say that I belonged many times. It’s tough for me to be in that limbo, frankly. Sometimes, I wonder who I am and where I fit in. I don’t know if I’m sad about that truth, but it does make me pause and get slightly scared sometimes. 

That is why I am so thankful for a teacher like Ms. Smith. My time in her Creative Writing class, in particular, is one I don’t think I shouldn’t let go of. She gave me the chance to shine when I needed it; the support when I needed it; the ideas when I needed them. I’ve been fortunate enough to have a teacher who let me explore. I can’t say that she’s initially on board with some of the ideas, but I am thankful that she was confident enough to let me try.

One time, when I was a student in her English 11 class, we were tasked to write a personal narrative about a moment in our life. I didn’t want to write about the time I had to play piano, or the time my parents wanted me to do something I didn’t want to do, or the time I failed an exam. I’m not boring. Instead, my idea was to write about my reaction to the 2016 American presidential election. It was going to be this dramatic re-telling of my emotions on November 6, 2016. It was going to be a lot. 

When I pitched the story to Ms. Smith, I very much heard the skepticism in her voice. This kind of reaction sometimes came up whenever I told her an idea that seemed kind of out-of-left-field. Nevertheless, she still encouraged me to try the idea, which I appreciate. For one thing, she still had the benefit of the doubt that my idea was going to be good; and two, whenever I heard some doubt, that was a signal that the idea should still get some work done.

The encouragement, alongside the low-key message to work on the idea, only motivated me to go the distance. During my two years in Ms. Smith’s class, I wrote a smattering number of poem and multiple overexaggerated personal narratives (including the one about the election), curated playlists about Shakespearean places, designed book designs, shamelessly included pop culture references (I’m looking at you, Taylor Swift), interviewed classmates about their romantic preferences, had a one-man show where I talked to an invisible brother who was better than me, performed raps to the class and even made a website where I just talk to people for hours on end and write about them (and possibly diss them if they’re horrible people). 

I don’t think any of those would have been possible in any classroom other than Ms. Smith’s. She orchestrated her class, teaching each and every student to play their instrument to the highest level possible. She’ll take her time to write every note on every music sheet or create a makeshift theatre for her student to practice in if push comes to shove. She’s a true virtuoso of education.

Let me discontinue this train line cheesiness because I don’t think anyone can tolerate it. But all I can say, as a way to end this story on Ms. Smith is this: I was enchanted to meet her. I thank her for the music these past two years.

Recommended Song: Thank You For The Music - ABBA