Every now and then I feel the need to thank the teachers who inspired me and who shaped my life. There have been many over the years, and I’ve forgotten most. But I will always be grateful for what they taught me, and how they influenced my life. 

The first teacher I remember was my third-grade teacher, Miss Alley. She helped a shy, awkward kid feel good about herself. That still resonates with me. Little things, like helping me learn what colors were best for me, letting me stay after school and clean erasers, or giving me a little block of wood with a paper flower on it and the words, “Cheery Charlene, I love you.”

In fifth grade it was Mr. Davis. He taught me to enjoy kick ball. I didn’t play much because I wasn’t very good at it, and I was always one of the last kids chosen for a team, but he helped me realize I didn’t have to be the best to have fun and I was good enough to contribute.

Mr. Rowley helped me love English. He had a great sense of humor and was the first to call me “Charlie,” although the nickname didn’t stick until college.

Mrs. Finlinson, my Spanish teacher, who not only helped me love the language and the people, but was a chaperone when I had the opportunity twice to visit Mexico. 

I later spent a year and a half in Bolivia. I love the people of Central and South America. With my minor in History, I had to study three different areas of history. One was Pre-Columbian Central and South America. This was an off chute of what I first learned in my Spanish classes in junior high and high school.

I owe so much to Joyce Oldroyd, my junior high and high school English teacher. She taught me not only to love literature, but to learn the history around the book and author, the time in which it was written and what was going on in the author’s life. I still value those lessons, and I still look at literature in the context in which it was written as much as the work itself. That was invaluable then, and is more so now.

She also submitted some of my poetry and a short story to the High School literary journal. That was my first publication. She further recommended me to the Creative Writing teacher. She also helped me edit a short story so it would be published in the school literary magazine.

My senior year I took my first creative writing class from Beverly Fromm. I knew then I wanted to be a writer. 

there are so many others. The elementary school teachers that taught me about business by letting the students spend a week selling products in the hall at lunch and after school. And the year we had to “escape” our classroom, get to the lunchroom, and then outside without being caught as part of our understanding of the holocaust.

The teachers in junior high who taught me social studies and how government works, then emphasized it by letting us practice passing bills. All my history teachers who helped me love the past and see how history is truly cyclical.

Then there were my college professors. 

Marion K. “Doc” Smith. I first took a science fiction and fantasy creative writing class from him. Then I took one on science fiction literature. His office was like a TARDIS with corners and nooks full of books. What’s more, he knew exactly where every book was. When you’d ask a question, he’d pull out a book to illustrate his answer. He knew so much about classic science fiction and authors that he could tell you which book could illustrate with which topic, or which author wrote what theme. He was amazing.

Later, when I worked with “Life, the Universe, & Everything,” he was our mentor. He intervened when we needed help, and stood up for us with the college and the university. He helped us grow, and he helped each of us to understand the genre and to love it.

Steven C. Walker  who responded to a student’s comment by saying, several times each class, “I never thought of it that way,” or “that’s a great way to look at it.” He told his students that they taught him. His Tolkien class was inspirational. I fell in love with the books on an entirely different level as he helped me see the layers and nuances in the series, and in Tolkien’s other books. I only attend one Bible as Literature class of his, and wish I could have taken the whole semester. He explained the Bible so that you not only appreciated it as scripture, but you saw the literary value of it as well. He was and is brilliant.

Linda Hunter Adams worked in the Humanities Publication Center and taught a class on editing. She loved literature and was a brilliant editor and friend. There were many times when I’d go to her for emotional support or to simply talk. She hired me and another student to edit a book of simple stories in Spanish and English to help teach Spanish. She also worked with and mentored students for a semi-professional science fiction and fantasy magazine, “The Leading Edge.” I learned a lot about editing and layout from her. I also learned a lot in general. 

Betty Pope, who was a librarian at the Harold B. Lee library on the campus of BYU. She created a section for science fiction and fantasy in the library. Her home was amazing. Bookshelves lined her walls. There was a bookshelf over her fireplace, and over the doors. There were also bookshelves in her hallway and dining room. She had spaces for fantasy art, but it was truly a booklover’s house.

Other professors, like Sally Taylor and Marge Wight, taught English, but they also loved science fiction and would gladly help students with their writing projects.

I had history teachers that were amazing as well. I loved school, and I loved learning. My husband jokes that I was well on my way to becoming a perennial student. He wasn’t wrong. I had plans to graduate, move to Cedar City, get a job, and go back to school so I could be near the Utah Shakespeare Festival. It didn’t happen. We married three days before I graduated, and I missed my graduation ceremony because he had to report to Camp Pendleton the next day. I did graduate, but I would have taken another year or twit do so without my husband.

Each of my teachers helped me learn, and helped me love learning. I love Shakespeare, poets like Donne and Blake and Frost, writers like Dickens and Hawthorne. And so many more. My house is a library with classic literature and poetry, history, Spanish books and texts, religious texts, and lots and lots of speculative fiction. Mostly fantasy, but a good smattering of science fiction and a bit of horror. My daughter and daughter-in-law have already decided they will inherit my books when I die. That’s fine with me. I get to love my books now, and share that love with the next generation.

I owe a lot of that love to my wonderful teachers and librarians. Thank you.