A LETTER TO MY YEAR FIVE TEACHER.

Dear M. H, (that’s what I’ll call her)

I have many painful memories of your cruelty, such as name-calling, and how, when I scored 100/100 in a test, you told the class to give me a clap and when they applauded, you replied, “I said give Peter a clap!” meaning put your hands together once. There was, however, one gift that you gave me, and no, it wasn’t the little bag of candies and chocolates on break-up day, it was activism.

You were a radical animal liberationist and told us to go home and tell our mothers not to give us meat and to buy free range eggs. You had us write letters to influential people about issues such as setting aside a state park for brumbies, banning circuses and the like, but you didn’t encourage us to form our own opinions and find our own passions. I have been able to find my own.

Since I was identified as autistic (no autistic student should EVER have been in your class) I have become a self-advocate for my needs. I have also become an advocate against trump and the insanity of RFK. I have been able to befriend politicians on my preferred side of politics and express my views. I have found issues about which I have become passionate and advocated for them.

I have had people tell me that they don’t always agree with me but they think I express myself well. That’s what truly nurturing an activist heart is about. Nurturing activism is not about standing in front of a class and telling them what to say in a letter or giving people the choice of two issues and telling them what to say.

You were a terrible teacher, but if you had one redeeming quality, it was letting me see that I could advocate, and when my mother would tell you how well I was doing in high school, you would brush t off with, “Oh, I knew Peter could do it.” The thing is you didn’t encourage it. You were more interested in putting other people down because you were unhappy in your own life.

Yours Sincerely,

Peter Wynn.