The Things You Learn Along the Way

Every time I read a good book, write a story, or watch a good movie, I think of her...Mrs. Johnson.


Freshman Year of High School. First Semester.


I sat in the third row of Mrs. Johnson's freshman English 101 excited to finally be in my first high school class. Although I was the only black student in the class it didn't bother me at all, I was ready for the challenge, ready to learn, and ready to start off the school year right. The first two weeks of the school year went fast and before I knew it, our "big" paper was due. I put my all (or so I thought) into writing about the person who "inspired" me the most, my Mother.

I was positive that I absolutely got an A on the paper and was shocked when Mrs. Johnson asked to see me after class. "You just did ok on this paper," she told me with a disapproving look. "Although you've only been in my class for a little over a month, I see you, I see your full potential," she said. "You have one week to re-write this paper again and this time put your heart into it."

I spent the entire weekend in front of a blank computer replaying Mrs. Johnson's words in my head, but still I got nothing. Finally at 12:00 am Sunday night I woke up and typed what I consider to be one of the best things I have ever written. By the time I had finished I was in tears as I saw on paper just how much my mother had really done for me. Mrs. Johnson was so proud of my paper that she asked me to read it in front of the entire class. At that moment I fell in love with writing and from that day forward I couldn't my pen down.

1 year later...

Once again, I signed up for one of Mrs. Johnson's classes, this time it was Drama 101. I had never been much of an actress, although I had a starring role in my fourth grade play (I was pretty good if I do say so myself). Our assignments included acting out our favorite movies, plays, and television shows in front of classmates. However, our biggest assignment was to pair up in teams of two and write, produce, and act out a one man show. Mrs. Johnson chose who she wanted to actually do the acting and of course she picked me. I was nervous, a one man play at 15 years old is not exactly easy to do. She asked me to portray Billie Holiday, I of course had no idea who she was, but I sure did find out.

However, it turned out to be one of the best experiences of my high school career. It taught me that I really could do anything. It was then that I realized I wanted to be a screenwriter and once again Mrs. Johnson had showed me a whole new world and til this day it still impacts my life.


Junior Year...

By this time, Mrs. Johnson was my favorite teacher and we had built a strong relationship. I looked up to her and appreciated everything she had taught me thus far.


My high school crew and I sashayed into the school auditorium like we were the best things since sliced bread. It was unbelievably crowded since everyone was excited about the school talent show. There were absolutely no seats in the front or in the middle of the auditorium so we had no other choice but to sit in the back and we did. As the show was about to begin, Mrs. Johnson walked by smiled at us and asked why were sitting in the back?

"Oh" she said before we could even answer, "I forgot your people love sitting in the back."


At first we laughed awkwardly and then my friends who were all sitting around me and happened to be black begin to get extremely upset within seconds. I felt my cheeks get flushed and my heart was beginning to beat faster with the second. One of the guys who was sitting with us took his school sweater off and threw it in the middle of the aisle and walked up onto the stage.


"Racist" he yelled to the audience, "this school is so racist." The principles secretary asked my friends, the guy who walked up on stage, and me to all come to his office immediately. We sat angrily around the table and told him why were mad and he listened.


Three days later Mrs. Johnson was fired from the school she had been teaching at for the past 20 years. I had lost a mentor and my feelings about it were mixed. I couldn't understand how someone who had always encouraged me, would do something like that. It was wrong any or every way you looked at it and she couldn't take it back.


It hurt me to my core, but made me stronger. The next week I started the first African American Student club in our high schools history. Every single black student (all 42 of us) gathered into one of the classrooms after school and discussed our agenda. They voted to put me in place as there president, and for the very first time, I was in charge. Although Mrs. Johnson's actions had hurt me they helped me all the same.


Senior Year...


My high school never really had anything to do with black history month. I never once remember them mentioning it in a school assembly or celebrating it any way. That all changed when I started the Black Awareness Club. I wrote, produced, and acted in my very first screen-play for the black history month assembly that our club put together. It was such a big deal, that local press, and even some national public figures had come to watch. As I stood in front of the hundreds of people in the audience I noticed Mrs. Johnson sitting way in the back peering up at me with pride.



Despite what had happened, I was still thankful to her for opening my eyes to a whole new world. In her own way, she changed my life.