Jr. high was easily one of the worst periods of my life. I didn't have an easy time of it. At all. But what's that saying? Something good always comes out of something bad? That's true in this case. Jr. high was when my love of books began. Mrs. Robbins, the librarian, took me in. She made me her TA, gave me a sanctuary, and encouraged me to find solace in other worlds. I lost my troubles in the fantasy section of that library.
She was such a wonderful woman. Frequently, she would excuse me from PE (which I was having trouble with due to a yet-undiscovered medical problem) on the basis that she needed more "help" for the extra hour. Sometimes she excused me because I came to her crying. I would shelve books or run around passing out overdue notices, other times, we would just sit and talk. She meant more to me than she probably ever knew.
Anyway, as I was looking through my jr. high year books, she was the person that stood out to me the most. Forget all those teachers I hardly remember. Forget all my peers (except my still-bff, Tiffany). Forget that poor kid I stalked for two years (sorry, Ace!). My time with Mrs. Robbins in that school library now defines my middle school years.
Things would improve infinitesimally for me in 9th grade, and I'd like to think her support and encouragement played into that. Not to mention the role she's played in my love of books and writing.
Have you had a librarian touch your life?