Yesterday I visited a former teacher. Over ten years ago, it was the first day of her “Journey Narratives” class (a lit class–we were reading The Odyssey and Gilgamesh and the like) that she looked out at the sea of students and asked us if we thought we were on a journey ourselves. I think it was my hand that went up into the air first, and I spoke of the journey narratives that imbued my formative years–the LDS Saints’ westward trek in the nineteenth century, the wilderness wanderings of the Book of Mormon, etc. And I said that I thought I was a pilgrim of sorts, on a spiritual journey to find something sacred inside of myself. That conversation soon birthed this blog and not too long after led me to graduate school.
As we sat in her living room, she reminded me of the first time I visited her office hours. Catgirl was a wee 3 year-old and had sat on my shoulders playing with my hair as I chatted with my professor. She remembered that Catgirl admired her necklace because it had hand-blown glass beads that looked like candy. As a bit of a distraction so we could discuss some questions that I had about the course materials, my teacher took off her necklace and let my daughter hold it (at the time, I thought it particularly generous gesture because it was obviously an expensive piece of jewelry).
Yesterday she gave Catgirl that beaded necklace as a “good luck” talisman for her plan to attend school in Europe next year. Words can’t express how exciting it is to see my daughter taking her first steps on her own path. And I still marvel at the generosity and support of a teacher who started me out on my own…