The following is the original, unabridged speech by 2021 Union Public Schools Teacher of the Year Rebecka Peterson, congratulating the 2021-2022 Site Teachers of the Year. Peterson is a finalist for State Teacher of the Year. The winner will be announced in March.
The new Union Public Schools District Teacher of the Year will be announced this afternoon.
Message from Rebecka Peterson
Hello, Union. It is such an honor to be here with you. What a year it’s been.
For those who don’t know my story, I’m an immigrant to the United States. My family actually moved a lot growing up: by the time I was 16, I had lived in four different countries. While I’m grateful for my diverse cultural experiences as an adult, as a child, they left me feeling untethered. I never quite knew where I belonged, or how to answer the seemingly innocuous question “Where are you from?” But after a decade at Union, I know exactly where I belong.
Belonging to you, to a community devoted to inclusion and excellence, has afforded me a great privilege. A month ago, I had the opportunity to interview with the eleven other finalists for the 2022 Oklahoma State Teacher of the Year. While the announcement won’t be made until next month, in preparation for this potential position, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the question, “What is your message to Oklahoma teachers?”
I’ve tried to come up with something eloquent but nothing seems more profound nor fitting than those two simple words—“thank you.” They were the first two English words my parents made sure I learned when we immigrated: Thank you.
Though I often didn’t know where I fit in during my childhood, there was a place I always felt welcomed: the classroom. My teachers saw potential in me long before I ever did. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a girl who didn’t understand her friends’ holidays, who ate weird foods, and who loved numbers far too much to be cool. But when my teachers saw me, they saw grit; they saw potential; they saw eyes that watched their every move.
I never stopped watching teachers, not as a student and not as a teacher. Maybe it’s an old habit–one where I continue to self-calibrate to see if I still belong, or maybe it’s a personal need to watch and search for the helpers in the room. Either way, watching teachers closely then as a child and today as an adult–I am in awe of the influence teachers hold whether you realize it or not.
You hold the power to turn a bad day into a good one; the power to turn enemies into friends; the power to lift a student–to lift me–in her most vulnerable years; the power to speak life into a child and to believe in her–even when she doesn't believe in herself.
You possess the power to instill a love of mathematics, science, history, English, and the arts; the power to model peace, acceptance, and grace; the power to evoke a smile, to instill confidence, and to make a child feel safe and welcome.
You carry the power to help a student envision her dreams and make them a reality–to tell her that the world is a better place because of her–to remind her that she has something to contribute, always–to convince her that the world needs her.
And after all these years of watching teachers, I know we don’t always get it right. Sometimes, our over-burdened hearts make mistakes.
But on our best days, we hold our students.
Now, as one of you, I continue to watch from the inside. I watch every day as you wield your power to help the next generation.
I watched as you marched around the Capitol, pleaded with state legislatures, and screamed for democracy. You didn’t just walk for a raise. You walked for the future of this state. You walked so my own son would have access to skillful teachers and innovative resources. You walked because—at your best—you believe viscerally there’s no such thing as someone else’s kid.
On our best days—we hold our students.
I watched again as the world collapsed in on us, with a virus none of us saw coming. I watched you connect with students as we weaved in and out of distance learning. I watched as you taught over Zoom, often to black screens and a red, crossed-out microphone. You supported your students whose families were devastated. You learned new methods and innovated in ways worthy of a congressional medal of honor. No matter the platform you were asked to use, you helped our students write like authors, reason like mathematicians, analyze like historians, hypothesize like scientists, and dream like artists.
Because–on our best days–we hold our students.
And then I watched as all our kids came back. And you dealt with over a year of learning loss–not just academically but socially and emotionally, too. For over a year, you were told “grace over grades” and “relationships over rigor,” and you leaned in wholeheartedly to that narrative. But then it became time to teach students how to be students again, and you weren’t given a script for that. But I kept watching. I watched as you held them to high standards while still meeting them where they were. I watched as you came early and stayed late to remediate. I watched–as always–you made sure that kid had enough to eat; that TCC and AP fees were paid; that lesson plans were made and remade when you were asked to pivot; that each and every child was seen and valued.
Because–on our best days–we hold our students.
On our best days, we believe wholeheartedly in the mission of public education: our mission that everyone belongs. Everyone’s in. No matter your skin color or your zip code. No matter your gender. No matter what crowds or what cliques you’re in. No matter if your ancestors came here on the Mayflower or–like me–you were one of the first in your family to step off that plane. Everyone is welcome. Everyone has a seat at the table. That’s the foundation of democracy. And we as teachers play a critical role in safeguarding that.
Because–on our best days–we hold our students.
And, if we’re lucky enough, we find–they hold us, too.
On their best days–they hold us and remind us why we do what we do.
At our best, we help them live the truest, kindest, most beautiful version of their lives.
At their best, they return the favor.
Because, as one of my favorite writers said, “In the end, maybe we’re all just walking each other home.”
So, what is my message to Oklahoma teachers? More than just "thank you.” More than, "What you do doesn't go unnoticed." I see only a fraction of what you do...and say, "I watch you and I am learning from you."
Humbly, I add, “Tack från hela mitt hjärta. Jag är bättre tack vare dig."
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am better because of you. You bring out the best in me.
Rebecka Peterson
Department of Mathematics
Union High School
Update: The District Teacher of the Year will be announced circa 3 p.m. Wednesday, February 9. An awards ceremony will be shown at virtually at each school site. Being named Teacher of the Year is one of the highest honors a teacher can receive at Union. All of the school site Teachers of the Year will be recognized on February 9.
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