The Story of a Proud Dad

How one math teacher’s humanity imparted a sense of maturity on an entire school.

Seeing adults exhibit vulnerability in a group setting is exceedingly rare.

Especially when that group setting is a room full of prepubescent tweens who still have a lot to learn about emotional support.

My 7th-grade math teacher, Mr. Woolsey, was rumored to be one of the more strict teachers in the grade (but to be clear, he wasn’t strict —he just didn’t tolerate 12-year-old b.s., which I cannot blame him for).

The one thing everyone knew about Mr. Woolsey was that his daughter was serving in Afghanistan. Her name was Emily. She was in her early 20s, and Mr. Woolsey kept a framed picture of her on his desk. She was beaming ear-to-ear in full camo gear, sitting on what looked like a cargo plane bench with military-grade sunglasses on, ready to serve her country. The picture was positioned so anyone could see it if they looked over at his desk.

He was a proud dad for sure.

One day, we came into first-period math. Mr. Woolsey never seemed like much of a morning person, but he was always pleasant enough.

On this particular morning, he was pacing quickly everywhere, forgetting chalk, slamming doors and drawers a little harder than usual. Then he looks at us and says:

“Sorry guys, Emily’s coming home, but right now she’s traveling…