I am one of 2,275 students at my high school and ever since freshman year, it’s been the same routine. Each teacher has hundreds of students to attend to, and it can be easy to get lost. It’s hard, at times, not to feel like another number, another name on a list, another essay to grade. But then, I met Mrs. Passler.
Jennifer Passler, a self-proclaimed hippie, was like no teacher I’d ever encountered before. As I walked into my British Literature class junior year, I was greeted by the plethora of Pride and Prejudice mugs, James Franco calendars, and Ernest Hemingway posters that decorate her classroom.
I had always enjoyed English, but over the course of my junior and senior years, Mrs. Passler made me fall in love with it. To me, that’s what makes teachers great – their ability to impassion students and embolden them to pursue new interests. And with Mrs. Passler’s infectious smile and her “happy clap” (the rapid, enthusiastic clap that is heard whenever she gets excited – which, with Mrs. Passler, is basically all the time) it’s hard not to feel welcomed and wanted.
At roughly 5'3", she’s not an imposing figure, but when you throw Wright or Poe into the mix, it’s a whole other story. Mrs. Passler is fierce and passionate about everything she teaches. Every day, she paints a different story. Whether it be the blues of Shakespeare’s tragedies or the fiery reds of Orwell’s brutal honesty, there is always a new story, a new work of art to experience.
The thing I love most about Mrs. Passler is not her spunk, or her love for A Streetcar Named Desire’s Marlon Brando, or even her proclamations of “Oh my gosh! You’re so cool!” whenever one of her students says something insightful during class. No – the thing I admire most about Mrs. Passler is her dedication and compassion to her students. It was this tireless commitment that made me feel seen for perhaps the first time. Mrs. Passler not only makes you feel like what you have to say is worth something; she makes you feel like it’s gold.
When attending a school as large as mine, it’s easy to feel like you don’t stand out among the D1 football recruits, the students with perfect GPAs and ACT scores, the Broadway vocal stars. But Mrs. Passler doesn’t care if you are a star athlete, a genius in training, or a soon-to-be Hollywood idol. No, Mrs. Passler eagerly takes in every lump of coal that comes through her door and polishes fervently until every one of her students shines.
She has written countless letters of recommendation and edited a seemingly endless river of college essays for her students, myself included. She never complains, and she never loses her patience. She is a kind, steady, and encouraging force, which is what makes her so beloved by her students.
I’ve had the privilege of having Mrs. Passler as my teacher for two years, and her excitement and charisma never waned even for a moment. She’s the reason why, this fall, I will be pursuing a college degree in English. She saw the shine in my lump of coal before I saw it myself.
There is something inspiring about watching someone get to follow their passion every day. Whether it be as a mother, an educator, a play-goer, or an animal advocate, Mrs. Passler does it all with an eagerness and enthusiasm that I hope to parallel in my own life. It was hard, at times, not to feel like another number, another name on a list, another essay to grade. But then I met Mrs. Passler.