Nicole Robinson

A few weeks into the semester, I sat down with a stack of construction paper and a stapler. I spent about half an hour making chains with seven links of a given color all linked together – each link representing a day that stood between me and graduation.

Including weekends and holidays, I’m at 37 days. The whole idea of not sitting in a desk every day has absolutely started to consume me. But the looming finality of graduation has also made me think about how I got to this point, and more importantly, who helped me get to this point.

Teachers.

I grew up hearing from my mom that if I were really lucky, I’d have about 10 teachers who’d make a difference in my life.

By rough count, I’ve been in classes with roughly 100 teachers since I marched into my 3-year-old pre-school class. And while I’ve learned something of value from almost all of them, my mom was almost right – nine teachers really got through in my 19 years as student. The lessons that those teachers gave me are the ones that will stick with me for the rest of my life.

So here it is, a long overdue open thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Schofield, for encouraging a pudgy, insecure sixth grader to make use of her talents. You set me in the right direction for the rest of my life by taking me firmly by the hand and insisting that I try gifted and talented programs and tests.

Thank you, Ms. Martin, for opening me up to the world of literature, and in doing so, opening me up to the world. You trusted that juniors and seniors in high school were savvy enough to understand complex works like “Macbeth” and “A Modest Proposal” and insisted that we worked hard to meet your expectations.

Thank you, Doug Greenhalgh, for inspiring not only an appreciation for music, but also a strong work ethic. You showed me the importance of the basics: Be on time; be professional; be willing to overcome setbacks.

Thank you, Mr. Issacson, for giving a clueless 16-year-old a glimpse of what college looked like in your Advanced Placement U.S. history class. If I hadn’t struggled through your essay exams and stacks of readings, I would have fallen on my face my freshman year.

Thank you, Mrs. Jenke, for encouraging me to take time and explore everything that I was interested in. From the inside of my frog in biology class to tennis, you encouraged me to be aggressive, to be a good sport and to focus on understanding not only the small parts, but also the full picture.

Thank you, Janice Weaver, for insisting that your students master the material you presented. But more importantly, thank you for an off-the-collar quip that will stick with me until I die. To paraphrase, you told my intro to microeconomics class that general education’s purpose was to make sure we were able to speak intelligently about a wide range of topics at cocktail parties.

Thank you, Rex Schulze, for being so damn cool. I still don’t know how you did it, but you changed the way I think. Your methods for teaching logic – explaining why Christmas trees are a crock, the occasional curse word thrown into lecture and discussions about how dogs are “supposed” to look – somehow helped me understand complex concepts and made me smile every class.

Thank you, Bob Woodward, for teaching me what journalism should be and inspiring me to write. You captivated me in your introductory communication class with stories of working in Washington at the same time as that other Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein. You taught me the research skills that have carried me through college. You showed me the power and importance of journalism. You expected the best, and I still work hard, in a way, because I don’t want to let you down.

And thank you, Mike Dorsher, for teaching me that sometimes the wonderful world of journalism isn’t always so pretty. You’ve taught me about the nitty gritty – from how to cover a tragedy to comma splices to dealing with ethical dilemmas.

The teachers who are really great don’t just stuff our heads full of facts; they show us how to live. They help us not only become educated, but also inspire us to become better people. Looking back on the teachers who’ve really gotten through to me, they seem to have only one common denominator – they’ve all inspired me in one way or another.

My thank you is long overdue, and I’m sliding it in just in the nick of time. For the rest of you – do better than me. Say thank you now. Nominate your great teachers for awards and commendations. Heck, write ’em a thank you note.

But let them know they do a great job. Let them know they make a difference. Let them know what they’ve meant to you.

MacLaughlin is a senior print journalism major and editorial editor of The Spectator. Mac Mouths Off is a weekly column that appears every Thursday.