The first day of my junior year began lacking promise. I woke up late, and as I expressed my frustrations under my breath in a loose string of words not accepted in school, I found that a painful, angry blemish was beginning to form on my upper lip. I couldn’t help but wonder what I did to earn it on the first day of social interaction after a summer of solidarity and smooth skin. Upon my arrival at school, I immediately wrote an essay that came without warning…in Spanish. By second hour my head was swimming and when I put myself in a desk far back in an unfamiliar classroom, the last thing I wanted to hear was that the semester would be full of group discussions and presentations. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what came out of this teacher’s mouth. Instantly, my heart rate shot up and my palms started to sweat. How did I not realize that Modern Literature would include discussion of... well, the modern literature? Public speaking was my personal boogeyman. It was always lurking around the corner, disguised as a grade. Even if it was inevitable, it was terror-inducing.
Am I being dramatic? Probably. But did I despise public speaking? Definitely. The last thing I expected of this course was the drastic difference it would make on my self-confidence and my enthusiasm for learning. This class resulted in the most impassioned work I’ve ever done in school and helped me improve my self-image. This was all thanks to one Mrs. Stephanie Polkowski.
If there is one word to describe Mrs. Polkowski, it would be excited. Not one day of class is spent in silence- even our ‘reading’ days are peppered with commentary and “eureka!”-themed explanations of the novels. The discussion days, for me, began as a panicked, gut-clenching forty minutes of watching the clock and praying I didn’t get called on. It’s not that I didn’t read the assigned chapters- I did, and I had plenty to say about everything I read. But what if I sounded idiotic? What if nobody understood what I was trying to convey? What if I was redundant? What if, what if, what if? It didn’t take long for everything to change.
The energy that Mrs. Polkowski provides can’t help but spill over and flood the classroom. It ignites a shift in motivation for students; they no longer read and analyze because they have to, they do it because they want to. Each time a pupil raises their hand and speaks, an enthusiastic “YES!” or “You are a ROCKSTAR!” is sure to follow, no matter how dynamic or simplistic an observation. Unafraid of trying to get students to think more in-depth about the text, she asks profound questions and integrates personal connections to characters which, in turn, serves as a foundation for connections in the classroom. For example, in relation to the memoir Falling Through the Earth, she had each student explain a family tradition or bond, so that everyone learned something new about the stranger sitting next to them. By creating unity in the classroom, Mrs. Polkowski also sets the stage for projects that are outrageous, entertaining, and intellectual-- simply because the classroom is a comfortable space.
Aside from her newborn son, Mrs. Polkowski could be a teenager herself. Not only does she hold all of the bubbly wonderment of a student, she tries to find ways to connect what we’re doing in class to something that is an everyday task for a modern teen- such as trying to get “hashtags” to trend on social media in relation to a novel or movie. (This is helped by her alter ego as a Technology Integration Coach). Students may, at first, gawk at her frenzied love for literature jokes and Internet puns; but in reality,  it only makes class more enjoyable, engaging, and effective.
Her youthful and animated persona also acts as a key driving force in the this-seems-too-early-to-function National Honors Society meetings, where she is a co-advisor.  Even on her class webpage, her profile picture is of her in mid-jump, a huge, silly grin across her face. It’s as if she’s saying Look, world! I’m ready to teach, and believe it or not, learning can be amazing! She’s not wrong.
Taking Mrs. Polkowski’s class helped me develop into a more confident person- her relatable demeanor and gentle, if extremely loud, guidance taught me that no idea is too ridiculous, and that genius can spark from asking the “dumb” questions. This revelation led me to stop asking my internal, worrying questions before I made my opinion heard in class and helped me notice how many amazing connections can be made on a subject by going the extra mile, or even the extra ten feet, in research.
The last day of my junior year was spent with this zany, happy person. Although the exam for her class was taken earlier in the week, a friend and I brought donuts to share and showed up to her student-less classroom. We spent the hour talking with her, sharing stories, and getting advice from someone who is undeniably happy, kind, and understanding. That last day of school serves as the perfect summation of Mrs. Polkowski: a teacher, a mother, a child, and a friend.