“Mr. Small,” the email began.
“You might be a little confused to be hearing from me but I just wanted to say : ‘thank you.'”
My senior year of high school was a really hard time in my life … You never gave up on me … I will forever be so grateful for that.”
My former student (I’m not using names or pronouns to preserve their privacy) told me of their upcoming graduation and plans for graduate study.
The more I read the letter, the more choked up I got.
With a lump in my throat, I printed the letter and shared it with a couple of colleagues. “This one is a keeper,” I said. “I’ll take it out and read it whenever I need a pick-me-up on those particularly rough days.”
One colleague said, “That’s the kind of letter that you’re lucky to get in a career.”
“And that one student said what so many others feel – but never find the chance to say.”
The letter couldn’t have come at a better time.
Our district let us know this past week that the system is slated to lose 20 counselor or social worker positions in the 2025-26 school year.
The district thinks the spots can be recouped through attrition. I’m not personally worried, but the news was certainly dispiriting.
My former student’s letter came before the announcement, so I know that news wasn’t the inspiration. Nevertheless, given the times, it was an especially valuable gift.
I responded to my former student with a note of heartfelt congratulations and best wishes. The impact of that letter still continues to resonate with me.
I am where I am today because of so many people’s kindnesses.
Just to name a few instances that changed my life:
- My closest friends from high school, who supported me unconditionally when I came out to them in the early 1980s. They showed me I could trust my feelings and my heart without regret.
- The Catholic priest at my college parish who welcomed me back in 1984 and connected me with a gay Catholic mentor, after a previous pastor’s fire-and-brimstone advice pushed me away for a few years.
- My soon-to-be copy desk supervisors at the daily newspaper in Raleigh, N.C., who asked me in 1993 what brought me to the area and didn’t flinch when I said: “My boyfriend.”
- The Franciscan friars of Holy Name Province, who encouraged a group of two lesbians, three gay men and a straight female friend to form an outreach ministry to the LGBTQ+ community (long before that acronym) in 1999.
- A teacher friend of mine, who put in a good word for me in 2010 with the dean of students at her high school, where I’d hoped to intern to start my second career as a school counselor.
Without these people and what they did for me, my life today would be substantially different.
Who are the people whose words, actions, responses changed your life immeasurably for the better? Have you thanked them lately?
And if you’ll excuse me:
I’ve got some letter-writing to do.
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Thank you for being a letter writer. An almost lost aspect of our society, but there’s nothing like getting a heartfelt letter. I’m glad you got your letter. I need to write a few more letters.
Also, immediately before reading your article, I had just cued up and listened to Dido’s “Thank You”. Lovely synchronicity.
I recently ran across a letter from nearly 50 years ago. It’s stayed with me over the past few weeks. I’m not sure emails would have the same effect.
So if you have something personal and important, send a letter.
This was moving to me on a few levels, Chuck, and a reminder to keep on doing our best to be a light, to be supportive and to encourage and affirm.
I really appreciate you sharing this.
Recently, our Minister of Care at the church where I work has been battling cancer and after 5 rounds of chemo that didn’t bring the numbers down far enough, her body finally gave out and couldn’t take anymore so she went off the chemo and is currently in hospice, with likely not much time left on this earth. In the midst of the chemo, she was still working the entire time, but finally had to step down and retire.
We never got to give her a public goodbye party and acknowledge her years of service to the parish. She was there for me personally and so many others when we lost loved ones, visited countless people in the hospital, and did so much other important work, that is not always seen. I wanted to find a way to publicly thank her, so I had a bunch of people write just a couple of sentences of the impact she had on them or how she helped them. Our bulletin editor made up a nice “thank you” page with a bouquet of flowers and all of the quotes scattered around it and it ran two weeks ago.
I was able to bring her a copy of it and she read it in front of me. It was a small way of thanking her for a life of selfless giving, but she was moved by it and I am grateful we got a chance to do it before it was too late.
On the topic of showing gratitude, here is a Carpenters’ song on that very subject, written by Henry Mancini, with lyrics by his daughter from a letter she wrote to her parents. I posted it at the gum yesterday as the Crilley’s Category theme was songs about thankfulness.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35lBbXqTsds
Those letters mean the world. I have a file of notes that I received during my teaching career, and when I was particularly discouraged, I would take them out and read them. My daughter will probably throw them out after my death, but I’m keeping them until then.
This is lovely stuff.
Rather than a letter of thanks I’ve felt I should have written a letter of apology to my high school Maths teacher; Mr Singh. He was a great teacher and person. He wasn’t much over 5ft and in an area where it wasn’t common to see anyone that wasn’t white he held a remarkable amount of respect. He may have been shorter than most of us but you didn’t cross him. He was firm but fair and as long as you got on with your work you could have a laugh with him.
I got through GSCE Maths fine but came unstuck moving onto A Level. (GCSEs are studied for from 14 to 16 and everyone does them. A-Levels are then optional from 16 to 18). I failed Maths A-Level, I knew it was coming. On the day I collected my results I wasn’t too bothered as I got a place in university anyway. Mr Singh saw me laughing with my friends. He glared at me and I didn’t dare speak to him.
Failing didn’t affect my future life but in that moment I felt like I’d let him down and 30 years on it still feels that way. I don’t know if he’s still with us but if anyone deserved a letter from me it was him to apologise, let him know it wasn’t his fault and regardless of my failings when it comes to algebra he stood out as a great teacher.
Anyone need a good, related cry-your-eyes-out?
https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x80aumo