Carrie M. Sternstein

I graduated with the class of 2010. I struggled immensely with high school. I was an unfocused, lazy, and depressed teenager. Although I was not fully at fault for my brain chemistry, I didn't do my part to mitigate my problems, nor did I think I even had to. I thought this was who I was. I thought I was meant to be a failure. I never opened up to anybody about my problems. I was highly introverted, a bit unkempt, and as a result of being so unfocused, I was barely able to graduate. Mrs. Sternstein was my favorite of all the teachers. The way she interacted with the class and encouraged open discussion made me realize that perhaps I had a place in this world. I realized I was smarter than I believed myself to be. The class lessons were engaging in a way that subverted my experience with school up until this point. I wasn't just being spoken to, I was being taught. The activities and lectures had an aura of stylish wit. For the first time in my school life, I felt motivated. I was still uncomfortable and scared of failure, but I also found myself taking bolder risks, not just inside the class, but in my personal life. I had fun in her class, and I learned a great deal, and not just about English and literature. Our education model highly prioritizes compliancy over competency, and compliancy is a threshold I will always struggle to overcome, although I am thankfully better at it now. While other teachers made me feel like I would never amount to anything, Mrs. Sternstein made me feel like I could be something, and that this was possible to achieve while still being myself, the same self that I had started to give up on. I doubt she even realizes the impact that she had, which somehow makes it even more meaningful. I wasn't special. I wasn't a teacher's pet. I didn't stand out, and I wasn't remarkable in any kind of way. I sometimes didn't even feel like the main character of my own story at times, yet Mrs. Sternstein treated me with dignity, and she diligently educated me and my classmates, and she unknowingly helped me regain some individuality that had gradually been slipping away. I can't quite explain what it was about her teaching method that resonated with me. The only way I can describe it is that she was there because she wanted to be. It wasn't a means to an end. She wasn't just going through the motions. I wasn't made to feel like a burden. Even though our personalities were likely the polar opposite of each other, her extroverted teaching style helped shape the type of adult I chose to become. I take initiative. I start conversations when necessary. I am responsible, I am hard-working, I am patient, and I consider myself to be incredibly successful. Most importantly though, I am happy. I have built a meaningful life for me and my family, and I didn't need to entirely change who I was, as I am still introverted and I purposefully keep a low profile. I think all I needed was somebody to show me I wasn't the failure I thought I was. Her classroom setting showed me that. Mrs. Sternstein, if you ever get the chance to read this, thank you for this. You're awesome. Also, thank you for not getting me into trouble for the wallet-fire trick that I for some reason decided to do while giving an in-classroom speech... other teachers weren't so understanding. I just wanted to be cool! (Part of trying to be more bold, although it admittedly wasn't school appropriate)