American Icons

American Icons: Kristina Wenger

The gray door of Room 8 opened and I was greeted by six pods of tables, a spacious rug, shelves of organized books, and a clean whiteboard. I was a nervous but excited third grader on the first day of school, dressed my best in a white collared shirt and navy blue pleated skirt, with cute hairpins in my short black hair. This was the first year I had entered school without my best friend, so I was quiet and shy about talking to other students. The tall dark-haired woman that was my teacher became the first friend I had made since my best friend had moved away. Her name was Kristina Wenger.
As the year progressed, and the first day became the second, and the second day went on to become the first week, and the first week became months, Ms. Wenger became more than just my teacher. She was someone I could talk to and who could understand me. I came in at recess oftentimes and asked if there was anything I could help with. I would file papers or organize tests alphabetically or set up supplies for the next class science experiment. Every time I came into her classroom to help, we would talk about what I had drawn recently, her pets, or what our favorite kinds of candies were… We could talk about anything.
After I graduated her class, my fourth grade and fifth grade teachers didn’t need the help that I could offer and they didn’t have anything that they wanted me to do, so I went back to Room 8. I liked to help her out, and I could tell her how my new classes were going or she would tell me how enthusiastic her new students were. We would arrange a time for me to come in and teach her students some of the fun things I learned from her. I would show her my drawings and poems and ask for her opinion and critique. We would eat lunch together. She would give me chocolates and I would give her poems and pictures. We became even closer as the years passed. She helped form the person I am today.
Kris showed me what an American was. She is an American. She is hard-working and spirited and caring, creating the foundations of a future and a life for her students like she did for me. She showed me America, the one I live in now and the one I hope to make better for the next generation. There is a bright message we both hope to pass on to those who come after us.
I still go back to her classroom, and I see each year how the third graders get smaller as I get bigger. I see how excited they are and I recall that that was how I used to be, eager to learn new things in her class. I wonder if any of these kids will be like me, visiting the past and creating a future? I may not be a teacher, and I may just be a classroom assistant who’s there to find smiles with a friend and not work or money, but maybe someday, or even yesterday, I might have inspired someone to become better, just like how Kris inspired me.