How did I get here?
I am the product
of a mother who made whole wheat bread and read out loud to us each night books like Little House on the Prairie and Little Britches.
of a father who died at 28 from colon cancer, and another father who married a widow to raise us on a ranch in Jensen, Utah, surrounded by cousins.
of eating breakfast while watching the sun rise from the belly of beautiful Split Mountain.
of public library books and piano practicing.
I am the product
of public education teachers like Mrs. Anderson who took me to McDonald’s for an ice cream treat in second grade for saving all my reward points, of Mr. Ray who walked with a limp and loved us, Mrs. Nelson who made us artists, Miss Heeney who kept me lovingly accountable for missing homework.
of 6th grade science fairs. To study the effects of music on behavior, I bought rats. Rats! and played classical pieces and hard rock music, and made mazes with my dad — for rats!
I am the product
of Mr. Ika, a Tongan immigrant, shorter than most of us in band, who could slam dunk!
of my debate teacher Mrs. Forsgren, Mr. Dickson the tough high school musical director, Mr. Hansen in Choir, Mr. Browning in AP history, Ms. Cowan in Criminal Law, Miss Baker in algebra and Mrs. Hawkins — the hardest English teacher at Uintah High School — who gave me their world of teaching.
I am the product
of Uintah Basin boom and busts, stock shows, girl’s camps, and family potlucks on Sunday afternoons.
of reading in the beauty of my back yard and tracting the front door steps of Brisbane, Australia.
of Pell grants, a USU branch campus, of working three jobs in Jackson Hole from 8 am until 2 am - the next day - all summer long.
I am the product
of six siblings - my biggest rivals and my biggest fans.
of good friends like Anna who discussed literature, roses and raising kids while mopping floors, and Staci who keeps me walking to process life.
of my children who provide enriching, hands-on learning making a better mother and teacher.
So many people invested their passion, made me feel loved, and asked me to do more than I thought I could, just so I could discover that indeed, I could.
My safe place to land when teaching rips my soul is my husband, the wildlife biologist, who keeps track of how many yellow vs. green zucchini from our garden, who reads 70 books a year, whose calm, steady approach complements my passionate, expressive one.
It is a honor to be a teacher with kids who enrich and understand the human experience, kids who break my heart with human tragedies of poor choices and poor luck. I am a product of those kids, too.
I humbly request that I not be a martyr to exemplify “good teachers.” Teachers need energy to go home to causes that give us back the energy we invest into our students. Collectively, we are an incredible force for good.
So, how did we get here?
Whatever it is, let’s keep doing what works and fix what needs attention. Knowledge is powerful and as it is shared, the next generation then takes that knowledge to create more.
Let’s use our grit to grow our gratitude and invest in the Utah students we love.
Aaryn Birchell is the 2018 Utah Teacher of the Year. She teaches English and AP Literature at Uintah HIgh School in Vernal. This is an excerpt from the acceptance speech she delivered earlier this month.