The first day of school for my grandchildren brought back many memories of my first days of school. It also brought back memories of the days I sent my children off and anxiously waited for them to come home and tell me about their first day of school.

My grandchildren came home from their first day of school and declared that they loved their teachers. My one grandson who is in first grade declared: “I have the nicest teacher ever.” That said a lot coming from the boy who wasn’t exactly in love with kindergarten.

I thought back to my school days. The years and days of school I loved the best were the years I had a teacher I liked and who inspired all of us.

I started in kindergarten with Mrs. Lewis. She made everyone feel like they were the most important child in the classroom. She always had time for each and every one of us. In fact, even though she retired and lived in another community she kept in touch all my school years and was present at my high school graduation.

My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Weir, also had an impact on my life. I must have had an impact on her life, too, good or bad I am not sure. I happened to be in a McDonald’s 40 years later and recognized Mrs. Weir. I went over to say hello thinking she would not know who I was. She looked surprised to see me, called me by my name and we reminisced. She was exactly as I remembered her, a very gracious lady.

My eighth-grade teacher was Sister Mary Donald. It was one of our best years of school because of Sister Mary Donald. We learned so many things, and we gave her many trials. I could tell you a few stories. My classmates would remember and I don’t want to tell on them. Yet, she made learning fun and treated us with respect. Twenty-five years later when a classmate and I visited with her, she told us something we didn’t know. She remembered us, called us by name right away and told us she prayed for us every single day. That was a very humbling experience knowing there was someone from our past praying for us. Of course, she could have been praying for us because of all the lively experiences she had with all of us. She probably thought our class needed prayer especially if we had continued our escapades.

I was one of those kids who if I liked a subject I got A’s and if I didn’t like a subject, well we won’t discuss the grade. Looking back it wasn’t so much the subject as the teacher who helped me achieve those grades. If teachers made a class interesting, it was easier to learn.

We often talk about the fact that if parents give their children a good foundation they will grow up to be happy, well adjusted adults. I do feel teachers contribute to that. During the school year our teachers spend more time with our children then we do.

School and society have changed a great deal since I and my children have attended school. Teachers have many more issues to deal with in a classroom. I remember no homeless children while I was going to school or while my children were in school. Teachers didn’t have to worry whether kids had food or mittens for winter. Teachers also didn’t have to put up with bad language and disrespect in the classroom or from parents. Teachers were able to teach.

I was always sad to end the summer and my time with my kids. I never looked forward to school starting because I loved spending the summer with my kids. I knew when they came home on that first day of school if I heard the words that my grandson spoke, “I love my teacher,” that it was going to be a good year.

If you are a teacher I thank you for choosing the career that you have. You make a difference in a child’s life. You may have the impact to help a child get through a bad day. You may make the difference as to whether a child graduates high school and attends college. Some adults may remember the impact that you as a teacher had on their life 50 years from now. It takes a long time and a long memory to grow a child.

I am an opinionated person. I try to be fair but at times I express my opinion loudly. It gets me into trouble some of the time. People don’t always appreciate my opinion.

Though I am opinionated I do believe in another person’s right to express their opinion even if it does not agree with mine. I like to have discussions with people who do not share my opinion on a subject. Occasionally my opinion is changed by what the other person has to say. It depends on who I am having this discussion with as to how heated it gets. If it is someone I do not know very well I try to keep my tone at a quiet level. Those of you who know me know I am not a quiet person.

Recently I was having a discussion with a friend in our church basement. It got a little loud. The next day someone said to me, “I noticed you were having a very lively discussion over in the corner.” This person had the impression that we were possibly arguing. We were disagreeing in a very friendly loud way.

The person I was having this discussion with is a very old friend. We are both very passionate about what we believe in and stand our ground for that which we are passionate about. What I love about this friend is that through our loud honest discussions we come out of the discussion smiling and being better friends than before. In our earlier years we shared a church position. We would have a meeting with the pastor and we would get into one of our lively discussions. We would then come to a resolution of our problem but the pastor would be very edgy wondering how all this disagreeing would end. He was always amazed that we came to a mutual decision or agreed to disagree and still stay friends.

I love our friendship. Its honesty and acceptance of each other’s quirky ways makes life very interesting. We aren’t always able to spend time together but when we are back together it as if we have never been apart. Her energy feeds me.

In my family we have a hard time having discussions especially about politics, as we have one son with different viewpoints than ours. The problem isn’t with us disagreeing or our discussions, the problem is with another adult family member that gets upset about the loudness of the disagreement. This person is worried that these lively discussions will cause a rift in our family. I have explained it means that we are passionate about the subject and occasionally the subject gets lively but we never end up separating ourselves from each other.

I remember many years ago the loud discussions between my husband and his brothers at football season. One brother was a Kansas City Chiefs fan, being from Kansas City, and my husband and his other brother were Vikings fans. The bets would fly, the women would be afraid the afternoon or evening was going to end up in a whopping fight. It never did. This was their way of expressing their passion over their football favorites. I see that now.

It’s risky giving your opinion. We aren’t always tactful when we give our opinion. We risk being hurt.

The alternative to not voicing your opinion if you have a strong, passionate feeling about something is akin to stuffing a sack full of stuff. You keep stuffing that sack until it will hold no more and then it will break open and erupt and spill all of the stuff on the floor. The same happens when we stuff what we feel; it erupts at the wrong time.

In an ideal world expressing your opinion would be like my friend and I. We could express our feelings passionately and respectfully and not be ridiculed because of it. We might change some minds and we might not. We felt good because we tried and we felt good because our opinion while not being agreed with was respected.

There are times when the blows are falling cruelly in a discussion that people curl up like a little mouse in a corner so they are not drawn into the discussion. Think about a startling revelation we might miss about a subject because the little mouse in the corner might have the wisest comments to contribute to our discussion had not our nasty rebukes scared him away.

Of course my friend might disagree with me. I look forward to having that discussion with her. She and I would make a good radio show. What could be better than a couple of older (not aged) opinionated loud women discussing what age is too old to wear a bikini? Or should your neighbors get upset if you paint your house purple? Those would be two subjects we would loudly disagree on. Anyone looking for two older, fabulous older, women talk show hosts?

Julie Seedorf – Something About Nothing Column