When the idea of teaching my own English class was posed to me last spring, I was excited for the challenge. Yet when fall came, and eleven new Toads met me in Room C, their wide eyes and curious faces were less endearing than I had anticipated. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I, “the teacher,” can’t answer their questions?  Initially, the students were too preoccupied with the newness of Thacher to notice their inexperienced teacher. But as time went on, they eventually caught word that their freshman English teacher was a “freshman” to teaching. And although I dreaded the day they would uncover this secret of mine, surprisingly, they reacted with excitement. “So that means we’re your first class and you’ll never forget us!”  While I should have been touched by their sentiment, I was skeptical, and secretly wondered if their delightful response was a ploy to plot my demise.

Fortunately, I had great mentors along my teaching journey, as well as many bright, eager students to pose thoughtful questions. In fact, I soon found myself longing for our forty minute classes together. I even joked to my students that I spent the other 23 hours and 20 minutes of a day yearning for us to reunite. Our mere forty minutes never seemed long enough to do or discuss all I intended. Indeed I was a “freshman teacher,” over-prepping and over-stressing for what the experienced would regard as insignificant or minute. However, despite all my preparation, there were always some things I could not prepare for.

Back in the fall, I spent a whole class explaining to my students their first analytical essay assignment. I was on a roll—covering the art of the thesis, the significance of textual evidence, all the while providing effective examples to cover what I expected of them. Feeling all too confident when I finished my lecture, I asked the class if they had any questions for me. The response was silence and blank stares, until an exasperated voice spoke out, “Ms. Witmer, I will never be able to do this!”  At that, the class packed up and went on with their busy Thacher day and I was left alone to relish in my failure.

What had I done wrong? How could I leave my class feeling so insecure and uncertain? In a panic, I sent out an email to offer extra help during study hall. And despite my poor performance in class, they remained confident in me, and  I soon found myself in study hall with many of my students, eager to give this essay a try. As the week progressed, we accumulated many hours together, writing and rewriting.  In end, the products proved to be well worth the effort. In fact, I too, made new discoveries in the process. I came to realize that the Thacher student’s “I can’t” is not a reality, but rather, a challenge.

As our freshman journeys together continued, this theme of discovery persisted.  In fact, I soon understood that much of this confidence was being instilled in them outside the classroom as well. In a final writing assignment, one of my students recalled a venturesome encounter he faced when camping in the fall. He wrote, “The trip showed me the uniqueness of Thacher. The school throws impossible undertakings at you but expects you to come out alive. Somehow, we always do though, usually with the help of each other.”

In the Head of School’s final address to the community, he remarked on the significance of testing character. His speech covered several stories showing how those among the Thacher community remained courageous when being faced with adversity. His words reminded me how fortunate we are to work with the caliber of the students we do here at Thacher. Whether it is trying to get on a horse, trying a new sport, trying out for a play or trying to write an essay, time and again, our students courageously approach the new.

While my students may have picked up a few grammar rules or new reading strategies in class, their writing and our discussions actually strengthened because of their own growing confidence. Turning your opinion into an analysis to share with your peers, or rewriting parts of an essay when you discover a point doesn’t fit your thesis, are not easy tasks, but with the strength these students gain over the course of their freshman year at Thacher, they soon prove able. I would even credit their kind welcoming to their new English teacher as a  result of this bravery.

So yes, truth be told, I will never forget this class. They provided me with reasons to laugh, new insight, and even constructive criticism at times, but most importantly, helped to implant in me my own courage to approach the “new.”