How I finally found my fifth grade teacher...

What I wrote to her, and what she wrote back

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My fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Hall, was special for so many reasons. I sincerely hope you had a teacher who came into your life at the exact right time, who made as big an impact on you, and who made you feel safe and seen and heard.

My childhood best friend, Katy, DMed me these yearbook pix! I am holding the cockatiel and the watering can.

That’s also me, crouched in front with the ruffled skirt, sick side pony and feathered bangs, with cute Katy behind me.

I wanted to write to Mrs. Hall in 2018 during my Thank You Year, and again in 2019 when I was writing my book, but I couldn’t seem to find her. I called the principal at my elementary school, Montemalaga in Palos Verdes Estates, California. She only knew that Mrs. Hall had moved to “somewhere in Central California.” No help. 

But over the past year, it kept nagging at me. Yes, she has a common name. Yes, she seemed to not be on social media. But was she really impossible to find? 

I included the goal on my list of New Year’s Resolutions, which I wrote into this newsletter and posted on stories. Right away, Carol, a friend of a friend (who lives and teaches in my hometown) DMed me to say that she ran into Mrs. Hall in Chico, California. 

Once I searched for Mrs. Hall’s name and alleged town, her information came up! I have to pause the story here and admit: This was at the end of December, 2021. I only called the number I found a couple weeks ago—a full five months later. Why did I wait?

I suspect it has something to do with the perceived awkwardness that comes along with expressing heartfelt thanks out of the blue. Social scientist Amit Kumar studies the impact of gratitude letters on the recipients. The upshot of his findings? People overestimate the awkwardness of a heartfelt thank you, and they underestimate its impact. I interviewed Amit for my book: Here’s a condensed version of our talk.

You’d think after sending 365 gratitude notes, after writing a book about it, and after interviewing the world’s authority on perceived gratitude letter awkwardness, I would know that reaching out to someone, even decades later, will not be awkward. And yet it took me five months to do it. The impetus was this newsletter. I’ve been theming each newsletter month, just as I themed my Thank You Year, and May’s topic is “teachers.” It gave me a deadline. So finally I mustered up the courage to dial the number I found back in December. It was disconnected! I searched again and found a new number. This one rang and went to a generic voicemail: I left a message. 

One hour later, Mrs. Hall’s husband called me back, and put Mrs. Hall on. I had chills: She is now 81, but sounded exactly the same. I told her about my book, and she replied, “You must have had a great writing teacher.” Ha!

The very next day, I wrote the below note right into my book and mailed it. (I had waited over 30 years to send it, I couldn’t wait any longer.) 

Mrs. Hall!!

It was so nice to hear your voice yesterday after all this time! I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought about you over the years. This book is about the year I spent sending 365 thank you notes, and I wanted to write you one then (in 2018), but I couldn’t find you! I’m so glad I finally did.

I remember so much about our fifth grade classroom. I can still see the parakeet in the corner, by the sink and the art supplies. It was such a safe, happy place for me. 

I remember sitting on the carpet in the back of the classroom reading Matilda and Island of the Blue Dolphins. (I just finished reading the latter to my nine-year-old, Henry, who loved it.) I remember standing up and reciting a poem that ended with “I’m a beautiful person on the inside.” (I hadn’t yet developed my sense of self-deprecation!) 

What you said on the phone was true–I DID have a great writing teacher. I’m not sure I would be a writer without you. You were the first person to recognize the reader and writer in me, and encourage that. 

I’ll never forget how supportive you were, emotionally. I remember confiding in you that my parents were arguing, and that I was afraid they would get divorced. (They did, eventually, five years later.) I wish I remembered more about that conversation–I just know I felt comfortable talking to you, and that talking about it helped. 

In high school, when my brother, Alex, was in fifth grade, I helped you out in the classroom and in your garden. Thank you for continuing to provide a safe, happy place for me to return to, even years after I left the school. 

When I was 25, I finally opened the time capsule we made when I was 10. It was stuffed full of gems, including a paper bag from my favorite store in the mall, Contempo Casuals, a tape recording of me and my siblings, and a little fantasy story I had scrawled out when I was 5 or 6. The day I opened it, my 25th birthday, I was in a slump. I was languishing as an assistant–at Oprah’s magazine, but an assistant no less. The time capsule reminded me that I have always thought of myself as a writer. It was a little boost I needed, and shortly thereafter I switched jobs and was finally a real magazine editor and writer. 

Thank you for everything. You cared so deeply about your students, about me. You really paid attention to me, and took care of me in so many ways, and your love and influence is still very much felt. 

Sending you so much gratitude and love,

Gina Hamadey 

Less than a week later, I received a four-page letter, excerpted here.

Of course I remember you, such an optimistic student, a budding reader and writer, a joy to have in the classroom.

Peaches, our class cockatiel, had her cage on the sink in the corner. The Bridge to Terabithia, The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, A Wrinkle in Time are titles I remember reading with 5th graders over the years.

Each day when 5th graders arrived, they copied in their journals the words for the day and a response… and, yes, every day I read aloud a chapter, usually after lunch so students could hear the words, the language, get caught up in the story… anxious to hear what happens next. So important!

Your sweet note to me validates all I tried to be with my students. It is not often teachers hear back from students. We hope to have made a positive difference, but we never know for sure.

Keep in touch–you are my link to my past—all those years using my gifts… inspiring young minds. Gina, you are doing the same! How wonderful. Keep reading with your son. Together we are passing it on.

So special, right? I bolded the part that perhaps shouldn’t have surprised me but did: It’s not often that teachers hear from students? Even the very best teachers? If you have a teacher that made a real difference for you, could you do me a favor and tell them?

People always ask whether they have to write a letter, as opposed to an email or a text. And I always say, first of all, don’t let perfection be the enemy of the good. If you know that you will only reach out via email, do that. But handwritten letters are the gold standard. First of all, they leave a physical memento. And your handwriting, though most likely messy (mine certainly is), adds personality. Don’t overthink it.

And if you are a teacher, or have been a teacher, I would like to thank YOU.

xo

Gina

P.S. Share this email with someone you’re grateful for?