The Educator who Saved My Life
My first memory of anxiety was in the third grade. My classroom teacher gave us the innocuous writing prompt: what did you do this weekend? I knew exactly what I did that weekend, but I could not figure out where to start. I would start to write a word, but then quickly erase it. My sheet of paper was covered with gray pencil residue (which is maybe why I still hate pencils to this day). I followed my teacher around the classroom, essentially begging for a sentence starter. She sent me back to my desk and said, “I know you can do it. Just figure it out.” This wasn’t the first time something similar happened, but it was the time that I could no longer keep it together. I erupted into my first panic attack, which my classroom teacher interpreted as a behavior problem. Because I was unable to catch my breath and my sobs were quite loud, she promptly sent me to the principal’s office.
It’s no surprise that this cycle continued for several years. I would panic and teachers didn't know what to do, so I spent the vast majority of my elementary and middle school years in the principal or guidance counselor’s office. I internalized that I was a bad kid, which was exacerbated by each disciplinary referral. I became afraid of myself, and by seventh grade I was totally depleted. I had several panic attacks each day with little help from school supports. Through a family friend, a local private school was recommended to my parents; there, the whole child was prioritized. Long story short, I applied and received a full scholarship to attend. This is where I met my high school principal, Mr. Quirk. He profoundly impacted the trajectory of my life.
What made him an extraordinary educator is that he believed that student mental wellbeing came before academics--for all students. He felt a deep responsibility to prepare us for the inevitable stressors and anxieties of life. He educated his students on mindfulness and positive psychology, equipping us with knowledge and tools. Mental health was not a conversation reserved for a health class once a week; rather, every morning Mr. Quirk would lead my high school through a mindful body scan to help us start our days.
I didn’t realize how profoundly impactful his approach to education was to me until I sat beside Mr. Quirk just days before he passed away from cancer. I was hoping I would get to have one more pep-talk with him. I was going into my final semester of college and was unsure how I, the anxiety-ridden student, would be able to graduate without his encouragement and support in my life. Most of my life educators had told me and my parents that I was “classroom disabled because of my anxiety” or “would never go to college.” Here I was attending college in Colorado, far from my home in Connecticut, and thriving because of Mr. Quirk’s education.
It was at this moment when I realized we didn’t have to say anything else. I didn’t need that classic Quirk pep talk I craved. Mr. Quirk had done his job as an educator: he had given me the tools that would outlast his life--the tools I would need to navigate the inevitable future stressors I would encounter.
I founded Upstream in part because it was a way to keep Mr. Quirk’s presence and impact on education alive: to equip more educators with the tools he had instilled in me as his student.
Upstream has grown from an idea of a college student to a nonprofit that impacts nearly 60,000 students because of Quirk. His inputs, insights, and ideas are the heart of Upstream, and it’s our community of thousands of students, teachers, wellness experts, and school leaders who continue to shape what Upstream is.
In 2021, our intention is to amplify the voices and celebrate the people who inspire our work--like Mr. Quirk--to make students’ mental health just as important as their academics. One way we plan to do this is through this blog!