By Journey Harris, National Student President

“Just a hiccup.”

I thought about that phrase during my senior year of high school more times than I could count. As an aspiring future educator, I was placed in a first-grade classroom for my student teaching practicum. I was excited, nervous, and completely unaware of how much that experience would reshape my view of education.

Setbacks are temporary, my mentor teacher Amy Thomas reminded me often. A failed spelling test? “Just a hiccup.” A tough day with a sub? “Just a hiccup.” When I was overwhelmed, wondering if I would make it to graduation, she’d smile and remind me once again that those feelings were “just a hiccup.”

I find myself thinking about that phrase a lot recently. In May, Mrs. Thomas passed away at age 49 after a long battle with cancer. As I mourn her loss, I also reflect on the incredible influence she had on my life — both as an aspiring teacher and as a human being. Mrs. Thomas spoke these three simple words to young minds, inspiring students to believe that they could overcome anything. I saw the phrase work its magic when her first graders felt discouraged in grammar lessons, math tests, or even field day activities. And every single time, I watched as Mrs. Thomas turned their discouragement into hope with three simple words: “Just a hiccup.” 

During my time as a student teacher, I watched Mrs. Thomas walk into her classroom each day with a heart full of love. Love for the job, and more importantly, love for her students. I only spent 2.5 hours a day, four days a week, with Mrs. Thomas. But that was enough. Enough to witness her patience. Enough to see how she turned challenges into teachable moments. And enough to understand her strength and passion. 

Before I knew it, my time with Mrs. Thomas and her first graders came to an end. I graduated, started college, and chose to major in secondary education. But from the very beginning, I wondered if I had made the right decision. Every time someone asked about my future, my mind drifted back to that first-grade classroom. I could still see the colorful walls, hear the laughter, and picture the dark green chair where Mrs. Thomas sat to read to the class. And in those moments, I didn’t just remember the classroom. I saw myself in it. Not as a visitor, but as the teacher. In her chair. In her shoes. 

Secondary education didn’t feel like home, but Mrs. Thomas’ classroom always did, so I eventually changed my major to elementary education. I often find myself thinking about my future classroom. I dream of bulletin boards filled with student work; the sound of young voices learning, laughing, and growing; and a reading chair just like hers. 

More importantly, I imagine myself being a teacher who believes in glitter, fun, and laughter. Someone who inspires students to reach their fullest potential. Someone who always reminds her students that it’s never a bad day for a snow cone or doughnut. 

Mrs. Thomas taught me to keep trying and to stay positive. I know that challenges in life and learning are frequent but temporary. And I also know that Mrs. Thomas’s impact will live on forever.

Journey Harris is the 2024-25 national student president of Educators Rising. She is a student at Tarleton State University, in Stephenville, Texas, majoring in elementary education.