Dear 7 year Old Ingrid,

Today you will be ridiculed in the middle of your class by your second grade teacher. I would like you to know that in your future, you have a lot of really amazing teachers coming your way so don’t even worry about this.

You’re in the second grade and you’re in French Immersion, which means you learn everything (with the obvious exception being English) in French.  Math, geography, reading, history, arts and crafts and everything else one 7-year-old might learn in their native tongue, you do it “en francais”.  You should be applauded every day that you walk into your household just for doing this! But it’s the late eighties and over-indulgence isn’t a popular parenting tactic just yet.

Sometime in the mid-morning, all thirty students in your class are going to gather on the floor, in a crossed legged position.  Your teacher is going to single you out and ask you to tell the class what time it is.  ”QUEL HEURE EST-IL?” she’ll say to you as she points to the cardboard, handmade clock which rests ever so delicately on her lap.  She likely taught the class how to tell time earlier in the day, but you were probably doodling on your desk and missed the lesson.

Suddenly, without warning, the ground will fall out from under you.  Your hands will turn into a lake of perspiration, your heart will begin to pound so loudly that you think the entire class can hear it. “Shhhhh heart, shhhhhh!” Now you’re so focused on quieting your heart, you can’t even see the clock anymore. You don’t know how to read a clock! When did she teach us this?! Your vision is foggy, your head begins to wobble like your neck is made of jelly.

Your classmates will turn to look at you.  It’s like everything has gone silent, except for that obnoxiously loud heart of yours. You will stare at the clock, waiting for it to jump out and tell you the answer. But it won’t tell you, Ingrid. It’s not there to help you. And apparently? Neither is your teacher.  She’ll wait and wait and wait for you to tell the class “quel heure est-il” even though it’s become glaringly obvious that you don’t know the time.

One big cardboard hand will be pointing to a number and the small-hand will be pointing to another and then your teacher will be moving the second-hand quickly around the clock. It seems to be going so fast, it’s making you dizzy. You’ll remain silent for what seems like forever. And eventually your teacher will ask the rest of the class to answer the question.  Candace, as usual, will answer it.

Here’s what I want you to know. School won’t be easy for you. You’ll want to spend most of your time chatting with friends, making up skits in the playground, painting, drawing, learning a new instrument or just straight up hanging-ten.

You’ll always have a hard time in mathematics and science. It’ll feel like things won’t go into your brain the same way they go into Candace’s brain and that’s exactly right.  But here’s the good part: you have a good decade left of school and you have a handful of excellent teachers on their way to you.  Take comfort in knowing this.

Teachers are some of the most important people in a child’s life. They have the power to make great changes in the way that a child looks at herself and at their future.  Teachers have the ability to nurture a child’s self esteem and self confidence.  They leave life-long lasting impressions on their students and they have the ability to create a world, in a child’s mind, where possibilities are endless.

I would like to thank the teachers in my life who (are on their way) to seeing past my chit-chatting, my doodling, my cheating and my sometimes care-free (careless) attitude and will be able to nurture the person they know I can be.

I thank you (in advance): Monsieur Pilaprat, Monsieur Joanis,  Mrs. Kligman, Mlle. Bialowas, Mrs. Yermus, Peter Wylde & Perry Schneiderman.  

I thank you teachers. I salute you. And I wish you luck. If you have students anything like me as a kid… you’re going to need it.

Love,
Your Future Self

P.S. To my amazing readers: What teachers influenced and helped you? Let’s name them! They deserve our shout-outs! Tweet @ihaas and let’s give big-ups to the amazing teachers in our lives.

Ingrid Haas is a left handed, middle child from Toronto (that's in Canada). She showers in the nude and calls Los Angeles home.   She is an actor and a writer and regular performer at Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre LA.  You can follow her on www.twitter.com/ihaas or check out her website at www.ingridhaas.com
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