By the time I was 15, I’d already been suspended, detained for trespassing, and arrested for shoplifting. Most adults dismissed me as a “problem child.” Then I walked into Ms. C’s classroom.
Ms. C taught French and Drama at my junior high school in Vallejo, California. Her classroom was filled with her own private book collection, posters of French landmarks, and a hand-painted comedy-and-tragedy mask.
She was the first adult who treated me like I had a future, and she quickly became my favorite teacher. I loved spending lunchtime in her classroom, listening to stories about her French travels or practicing my lines for one of the school plays she directed.
Ms. C had standards and expectations that were just as foreign to me as the French she spoke. Everyone in my family was either a secretary, a waitress, or a construction worker, and no one had gone to college, started their own business, or done anything else that might get them labeled “too big for their britches.”
No one had ever asked me what I wanted to do with my life, so I didn’t think about it either.
One school field trip and encouragement from my teacher changed everything for me
Then Ms. C took our Drama class on a field trip to San Francisco. It was only 45 minutes away, but many of my classmates had never been. We saw a play, toured the de Young museum, and ate lunch in Golden Gate Park.
While we were there, she mentioned the San Francisco School of the Arts at McAteer High School, a performing-arts high school like the one in the TV show “Fame,” which I watched religiously.
Later, she took me aside.
“You’d have to audition, but you’re very talented, and if you work hard and prepare, I think you have a really good chance of getting in,” she said.
I thought she was joking. I’d never experienced that kind of encouragement from an adult, and it gave me the courage to try.
I applied, then tried to forget about it, certain I wouldn’t get in. So I was shocked when a letter arrived inviting me to audition.
I don’t remember what monologue I delivered that day, but it worked. I was accepted to the San Francisco School of the Arts (SOTA) for the 1986-87 academic year.
This opportunity and the city gave me more than I ever imagined
I don’t think Ms. C could have known what the city had to offer me, and neither could I.
Throughout that year, a range of opportunities helped me learn more about the world and grow as a person. At 16, a year after I started at SOTA, I traveled to the Soviet Union on a school trip and learned what it meant to live under communist rule.
At 17, I applied to the Nordstrom Brass Plum Fashion Board, got my picture in the San Francisco Chronicle, and landed a spot on the opening team at Nordstrom’s flagship downtown store.
I worked alongside colleagues from around the world and gained a confidence I hadn’t known was possible. None of these opportunities were available to me in Vallejo.
That confidence carried me to the University of Arizona, where I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in English — and became the first person in my family to graduate from college. From there, I was able to build my career in journalism.
About 25 years ago, I tracked Ms. C down to tell her what her belief in me had made possible. I was thrilled to learn she’s still teaching.
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