Once a week, I get a thoughtful email from the director of the summer programme my daughter is attending. These notes are full of care and intentionality. A window into the community being cultivated. A place where students are seen and nurtured, asked to stretch and step outside of their comfort zones, and invited to learn about themselves and others.
It got me thinking about teachers. How the really good ones stay with us, years after we’ve left their classrooms.
Can you think of a teacher who left a lasting impression on you?
I’m reminded of something the author Jason Reynolds once shared about his favourite teacher, Mr. Williams. Jason described Mr. Williams as unlike anyone he’d ever met. An adventurer, a storyteller, someone who had travelled to over 100 countries on a teacher’s salary. He invented a class called Global Studies, and everyone had to pass it to graduate.
On the first day of class, Mr. Williams introduced a class pet: a fish. The rules were simple.
“You have to name the fish and feed it when you come in. But whatever you do don’t touch it. If you touch the fish, you’re suspended. No questions asked.”
Weeks went by. The students grew attached to the fish. They fed it, looked after it, maybe even loved it a little.
Then one day, Mr. Williams came into class, scooped the fish out of the tank with a net, and dropped it on the floor.
Panic.
The fish flailed. The students froze. Two girls finally rushed to the front, scooped up the fish, and threw it back into the tank. The class exhaled.
Then came the blow.
“Get your bags and go to the principal’s office,” Mr. Williams said to the two girls. “You’re suspended.”
Chaos. “What? Are you serious?” they asked. “We saved the fish!”
“The rules are the rules,” he said. “I told you not to touch the fish.”
They picked up their bags, stunned. And as they stepped out of the classroom, Mr. Williams poked his head out the door.
“Hold your heads high. You did the right thing. Sometimes, doing the right thing has consequences.”
The rest of the class sat in stunned silence. Because, as Jason Reynolds said, we were cowards.
That story sticks with me, not because of the drama, but because it says so much about how we learn. The best teachers don’t just teach us facts. They challenge us to think, act, and feel. They prepare us for the real world, where choices are rarely simple and integrity comes at a cost.
It’s not just in school. In the workplace, too, we’re surrounded by people who teach us. Mentors, managers, teammates. People who push our thinking, give us feedback, or quietly show us a better way.
These are the unsung heroes of our organisations.
So as the weekend approaches, send one of your teachers a note of gratitude. Thank them for something they taught you. Even if it was just how to save a fish.
