The Power of a Little Reassurance

I’ve sat with this post open on a word document for the past few days now, in hopes that something will come to mind. That’s when I came across some of my posts from my last blog. As I read through them, I cringed, like a lot, but in some I sat there and couldn’t help but smile. I had forgotten about quite a few things that happened in my grade 11 year. 

   A frequent topic that appeared was my Journalism 110 class. By far my favorite class ever taken. I had moments of fear that my articles weren’t good enough or that there were many errors. Turns out I had nothing to fear.  

    I wrote of quite a few instances where my teacher was super impressed with my work. One that I remember very clearly was about an essay I was stressed about writing. We had to interview classmates by asking them three questions based on a topic we chose. I didn’t know what to do mine on and my friend said the single word tattoos. I made up three questions easily; I wanted to know their opinion on tattoos in general, their thoughts on tattoos in the workplace and also whether or not they agreed with the legal age of getting a tattoo. 

    I got some great responses but still struggled to write the paper. The night before the paper was due, I still hadn’t written anything and I was in a panic. Eventually, my ex suggested an idea and I began writing. After an hour of typing I had a half decent article.  

    The next day the teacher told us to hand in any work we had completed. I walked over to his desk and placed three articles down. 

     My teacher Mr. Eagles, a writer, and Rogers TV colour analyst took my papers and curiously flipped through. He told me that I had some good work and that I was very quick at writing my papers. I went and sat down at my desk and attempted to work on the new assignment we were given. A few minutes later he called me up. On the inside I was mentally freaking out going over everything he could have seen as wrong. The thing was it didn’t happen like that. He told me that he loved my work. He asked me about my title and the first couple lines. And then proceeded to read through the rest making comments. He then stopped while reading through my article to point out the wrong pronoun I used in the sentence. I then informed him how I asked the student (to which the quote belonged to) the previous day, what pronouns they preferred. (The student preferred the pronouns of “them”, “their” and “they”). Mr. Eagles then stared at me. At this point I thought I really messed up until I heard the words come out of his mouth. “In all my years of writing not once have I ever thought of proper pronouns like that. I am so proud that you caught this. This is fantastic,” he said.  

    That day I remember going to my friends and family explaining how excited I was. I couldn’t believe it. Me, Jemm Smith, did something that this accomplished writer has never thought about in his whole career of writing? What?!? I seriously thought I was dreaming. He kept repeating how proud he was of me and I honestly felt like I was on cloud nine. 

    In one of the other posts, I read held a memory that I held as one of my proudest moments I had ever had. Oddly enough I had completely forgot it happened. The post read,  

“When pre-calculus finished, I packed my bag and headed down the hall towards one of  the sets of stairs. As I’m walking along, I see my journalism teacher standing outside his  class with a stretched neck as if he were looking for something and then walk back into  his class. As I pass by his room, he calls out my name and I stop dead in my tracks. The  intercom sounds with a message “Jemm Smith to room 3008”. I glance above the door  and see a replica of the numbers just called out. My teacher smiles and motions me  inside. I follow and he explains he wants to show me something. Instantly, I’m confused  as he sits at his desk and with a straight unreadable face, opens a file on his laptop and  projects it to the white board in the front of the class.  

My legs start to shake. What did I do?  

Yesterday in class the teacher got us to write a 400-word article about our favorite  teacher, me being me, didn’t know who to choose at first until I realize the answer is  sitting right in front of me.  

Anyways, he begins to explain how much he loved my article and how much he needed to read it. He told me it almost brought him to tears. WHAT?!?!? HIM? TO TEARS? NO IT CAN’T BE?!  He explained that he didn’t know how to thank me for my kind words so he decided to do what he always does, write. He wrote all right. He also added my article into his!! I couldn’t believe it!! I did NOT think it was at all close to a good article, but apparently, he did. He asked for my permission to post it on his LinkedIn account and I said yes.  

Sure, he tells me that he is impressed with my writing but posting my article?!?! Wow! 

Later on, that day in his journalism class he asks us to write another article this time on our experience in high school. I finish it with around 15 minutes left of class and email it in. Almost immediately he read it and afterwards told me it was amazing. He explained that it was such a relatable article and that everyone would be able to connect to it. He suggested I post it on my journalism page as part of my portfolio and I couldn’t agree more.” 

     Sadly, I can’t seem to find the article I wrote nor where the teacher had posted about my work. I might try and get in contact with him to discuss the impact he and that class had on my life. 

     He was one of the reasons I kept trying to write, whether it be blog post or just short stories. I learned about myself in that class and it helped me realize my love for writing.  

     Unfortunately, shortly after I started at university, I stopped my creative pieces and simply stuck to writing papers for school. Occasionally, I would get this intense passion for a topic and my creative juices would flow but it rarely happened.  Now I want to put an end to that and reignite the fire that once ran through my veins.  

     Rereading those pieces made me remember why I loved to write and they’ve encouraged me to try and get back to that high I felt after writing. 

     Sometimes all it takes is a little reassurance that someone out there believes you can do great things, and sees your true potential even when you can’t. 

      Thank you, Mr. Eagles, for being that person. 

J.R.S