Ms. Forester

Screenwriters have written hundreds of scripts about bold teachers and coaches who went outside the typically prescribed methods to affect real changes in the lives of their students. These stories of educators who boldly step into unknown and uncomfortable territory are inspiring, but most critics think that they are unrealistic and dramatized. Nonetheless, I myself have encountered a teacher much like the ones portrayed in movies like The King’s Speech, and The Freedom Writers Diary. The characters in these movies captivate hearts and minds because they teach, not only the subjects necessary for passing the tests of life, but also the qualities essential for being a virtuous human being. Marleen Forester is a high school art teacher in small-town Plano Illinois. I must admit that after four years under her tutelage I still can’t accurately recreate a landscape on canvas; however, I can confidently say that because she was willing to challenge me, I learned a lesson that no other man or woman was ever able to instill- humility.

I remember my first day of high school very well. As the youngest child of three girls, my reputation proceeded me as I walked from classroom to classroom. Having spent my middle school years making frequent trips into the high school to see my sisters, I was not intimidated by the big lockers, numerous hallways, or new teachers because I knew them, and they knew me. My first three classes were with teachers who knew my sisters as trustworthy, respectful girls who had produced good work; as a result, despite the fact that I had never been in their class before, they credited me with these qualities as well. So I walked into Ms. Forester’s fourth period Art class under the impression that I could do no wrong- I was the third Buss girl, and that alone spoke volumes to the quality of my character. Imagine my surprise when the four-and-a-half-foot be-speckled woman taking attendance did not pause on my name to ask if I was Haley or Hannah’s sister, or stop me on my way out of class to share a funny story about them. With my confidence shaken, but still intact, my reputation with the teachers at Plano Hight School remained spotless; all of the teachers except for Ms. Forester. She could care less what my last name was, and saw through my overconfidence.

Ms. Forester was abrasive, and sharp-witted. She went beyond commanding respect- she owned respect. Respect was her personal property, and if a student wanted it, they had to go to her and work for it. Art with Ms. Forester was my daily dose of humility, and my reminder that in the real world I would be judged for the content of my character.  In her class, everyone started at the bottom, and was held to the same high standards. Whether they were an athlete, a band geek, or an administrators son, she could always tell if a student put anything less than their best effort into an assignment, and she did not hesitate to let them know. My sophomore year I spent thirty minutes on a project on which I should have spent two hours. I turned the project in on Friday, and Saturday morning she sought me out in the weight room where I was lifting with my volleyball team. After pulling me into the hallway she reprimanded me as I had never been reprimanded before. I’ll never forget her words: “Buss, you’re skating by on your personality, and I care enough about you to not let you get away with it. You might give the impression that you’re a hard worker, but you’re not. Start producing good work or I’ll fail you. I’ll not let you charm your way into a grade higher than you deserve.” After that, I attached myself to her hip. She was the first teacher interested in my work, as opposed to the work of my sisters.

Proverbs 27:17 reads: “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” Ms. Forester was iron. She was not afraid to sharpen me, even when I rebelled and sparks flew. She pushed me until I had no other option than to stand on my own two feet, and as a result, I realized that my own two feet were soft and insufficient. If Marleen Forester hadn’t so often and so unabashedly challenged my character and the quality of my work, I would not have had the humility to recognize that I was a sub-par student. The following phrase is often thrown about carelessly, and it will most certainly sound trite, but I sincerely believe that without Ms. Forester, I would not be the person I am today, and I am eternally grateful.