A teacher once said I was ‘bossy’

And changed my entire outlook on life.

In @jen726jen’s article here, she poses two questions at the conclusion of her tales of heroism:

1. Who was your childhood hero?
2. Who is your adult-life hero?

Reading this got me thinking about how I would answer these questions. Immediately two answers came to mind, but before getting to that, let’s go into some backstory.

Growing up I spent many years pouting in the shade of my brother’s shadow. It was an inevitable circumstance, being a second-born child. In school, he was golden. Focused, studious, and outspoken, teachers we shared always raved about him when they realized I was his little sister. I mostly followed his path, as I was never quite certain of my own.

While a younger me was fully focused on pursuits of fun: playing outdoors, in the mud, up in trees, “tightroping” on fences after school, my brother would read 6 books a week as part of the library club. Instead I would borrow 6 books and claim to read them all, despite never having cracked them open to the table of contents. My primary goal was to get a selection of free stickers once you completed reading a book. (Hey, they were shiny stars! What girls don’t like shiny things?)

Maybe in modern times I would have been diagnosed with ADHD and prescribed a focus enhancing drug. Sharing ideas with my parents of how I should spend my copious free time playing was worrisome to them. They responded with a constant comparison to my brother and the other stars of academia. In turn these words, along with being bullied in various forms through adolescence helped curb a natural tendancy for blurting out enthusiasm or ideas. A new persona evolved, one in which I lived in constant doubt, questioning whether I was right or wrong. To strangers and acquaintances I would appear to be boring, quiet, or shy.

AP Physics, taken in my junior year of high school, was the first class I ever studied for. Prior to this, I had never done any preparation for a class more than completing the assigned homework. This material I couldn’t pick up as quickly and didn’t have hours to complete. The silver lining was the unspoken rule: If you pass the AP test, the teacher will change whatever grade you have for an A. Being that getting anything less than an A was unacceptable in my household, this was the goal. I spent 3 days a week after school studying for the entire semester.

When the time comes, tests are taken and I receive my score. I passed! I fill out the grade change form and bring it up to my teacher to update. Our conversation goes something like this:

Me: Here’s the form for updating my grade to an A. (I say this beaming)

Teacher: Wow, you just passed the test. You had a C, in my class? I didn’t even know that. I would have thought you would have done better. Your brother got a 5.

Me: I know. *sigh* He always gets better grades than I do.

Teacher: You know, while your brother may get better grades now, some day you’ll be his boss.

Flash to now. When I think about my childhood hero, it absolutely is my AP Physics teacher Dr. D. He was the first person who saw me pouting in the shadows and noticed something in me that I didn’t yet realize myself.

He called me boss-y and with one sentence demolished the years of darkness. His words revealed to me an existence that revolved around more than just studying and acing tests, more than being a shadow, and reinforced a hope that I too had what it took to succeed.

A secondary realization from this conversation was that everyone is an expert at something (even me!), you just have to figure out what it is. This ties back to my answer for @jen726jen’s second question, “Who is your adult hero?” which I will transform into “Who are your adult heroes?”

My adult heroes are my friends, my confidants, the people that constantly encourage me, inspire me with their creativity and expertise. These people I’m lucky enough to call “friends” I learn something wonderful and new about myself and the world each day through their eyes.

P.S. Thank you Dr. D. With every step forward I take, I remember that you were the first to point me in the right direction.

P.P.S. Dr. D. your prediction was spot on.