The move from Milwaukee to Lake Country was anything but ideal, and I had become bitter. Being forced to start a new school mid semester in 7th grade enabled my irritation. Then, Covid hit and any small glimmer of hope I had for making a friend plummeted in the ground. 

The beginning of high school threw me back to square one. Added onto the fact a global pandemic set in, and the uncertainty surrounding that was abominable. I was nonetheless back to that small, little kid when we first moved. No friends, no nothing. 

When I started 9th grade, it was that fateful morning when I trudged into her room, apathetic and tired from the day already. I was the first to arrive and took out my sketchbook to begin doodling. Drawing had become reliable, something to focus my energy on. And I was good at it. I had hardly heard her creep up behind me, and when her gasp of enlightenment came over my shoulder I flinched.

“Oh my god, did you draw that? Those are amazing!” Mrs.Faulkner, my art teacher proclaimed. 

I looked at her confused, but nodded anyway. I told her I had drawn what was in my sketchbook and allowed her to view some of my pages. She told me I was talented and my work was something to be proud of, and that it was so cool to see what I was doing. She was impressed, she said, and happy to have me in her class. 

I smiled, and though we both had masks on I could tell by her eyes she genuinely meant what she was saying. Genuine. An unfamiliar concept soon to become a running theme I found to be in her classroom.

From there on, Mrs.  Faulkner would let me eat lunch in her room whenever I was feeling down and she would gawk at my work with praise and appreciation, not the ridicule I had grown so accustomed to. She was the only teacher I found who showed me any sort of warmth and it wasn’t only with me. Be it listening to us about relationship problems, offering advice, or simply being there to sit with, she was always there for every one of her students.

Being in her class for over two years allowed me creative freedom to produce magnificent pieces of art and the encouragement I needed as a kid lost in this crazy world. 

Each year I’ve attended Arrowhead I’ve drawn her a picture of a girl and an orange, and the next year, through her guidance, I’ve redrawn the same picture to see how much I’ve improved. I hope to keep this same tradition until I graduate at the very least and maybe even beyond. 

Though I was exasperated first entering my family's new move, Mrs.  Faulkner aided in helping ease that struggle and blossomed my perspective into something new.