Back-to-school lessons in gratitude

This week is back-to-school week in Boulder City, the first time in 27 years that I don’t have a child in public schools.

School buses are rumbling down our streets again, crosswalks are filling with backpacks, and kitchen tables are undoubtedly overflowing with sharpened pencils and signed permission slips.

But my house is much quieter this year. Leslie and I officially became empty-nesters a few weeks ago. Fortunately, though, we still have grandchildren sending us back-to-school photos and excitedly marching off to meet their new teachers. It’s been a great opportunity for me to reflect on the supernal blessing of teachers in my life and a much-needed reminder that none of us became who we are on our own.

In America, we tend to idolize the “do it yourself” spirit. From the frontier homesteader to the modern entrepreneur, our heroes are often portrayed as self-made masters of their own destiny, beholden to no one. That ethic has real virtues.

Self-reliance builds resilience. It teaches problem-solving, cultivates confidence, and sparks innovation. Anyone who has fixed her own leaky faucet, built his own deck, or taught herself a new skill knows the quiet pride that comes from saying, “I did this myself.” But even the most self-reliant among us didn’t start there. We each had help. Often more than we realize. And there’s no clearer proof of that than the annual mass migration back to the classroom.

Teachers are living testaments to another great virtue: reliance on others. Every child who learns to read, solve equations, write an essay, or think critically does so because someone — usually many someones — took the time to guide them. A teacher’s work is not just the transfer of facts but the shaping of minds and hearts. They help us to not only know more but become more. We sometimes forget that everything we “do ourselves” is built on layers of what others have taught us.

The entrepreneur who designs a new product relies on the math that a teacher once explained on a chalkboard. The engineer who repairs a bridge draws on principles learned from a professor. Even the “self-taught” musician began somewhere — maybe with a choir director showing her middle C, or a band instructor providing that first sheet of music. In that sense, back-to-school week isn’t just about kids. It’s about all of us remembering our debt to those who taught us how to think, read, and solve problems. No matter how much we’ve done for ourselves, we’re all standing on the shoulders of teachers.

Of course, the two virtues — self-reliance and reliance on others — aren’t enemies. If you think about it, society itself runs on this partnership. The person who can repair a car might not know how to grow food; the farmer might not know how to code software; the coder might not know how to build a house. We rely on each other’s expertise so that together we can all live better than any of us could alone. That truth is worth remembering this week when classrooms fill again, when teachers step up for another year of shaping minds. Their influence ripples far beyond the school year, often far beyond what they’ll ever see.

The self-reliant adult you are today was made possible, in part, by their investment years ago.

In a newspaper column so small, I could never personally thank every teacher who’s had a positive impact on me. So, today I’ll single out just one — Eleanor Phoenix.

When I was a junior and senior in high school, Mrs. Phoenix was my English teacher. In Honors and AP classes, she constantly drilled us in vocabulary, exposed us to the very best English and American literature, and challenged us to dig deeper within ourselves to mine our most profound thoughts and feelings, then express them on paper in meaningful ways. When we weren’t living up to her high expectations or giving our best, Mrs. Phoenix frankly told us as much. She knew we had more nuggets of gold to unearth from the depths of our souls than even we knew ourselves. And her wry, amused smile communicated that quite effectively every single day.

I’ve always loved words and their inherent power to change us for good and take us to an infinite number of imaginary destinations that we could never go in real life. But Mrs. Phoenix empowered me to take that love to ever greater and more sublime levels.

This morning I tried to imagine what my life would be like without Eleanor Phoenix in it. I quickly realized that I can’t. It’s impossible. I simply can’t fathom how very different my life would be without her influence.

Not a day or even an hour goes by when I don’t draw on something she taught me. She’s an integral part of who I am. And, so, I just thank God for Mrs. Phoenix and the many others who sacrifice so much to help us and teach us.

That’s not to say that we shouldn’t keep fixing our own faucet and celebrating the satisfaction of doing things ourselves. But take a moment this week to think about the teachers who first taught you important skills or turned the lights on in your mind. Then, if you can, thank them — in person, by note, or even just in your thoughts. Because while self-reliance is a strength, gratitude for others, and especially for our teachers, is an even greater one.