Still a Teacher

My friend called me this morning. One of those slow, honest calls where the voice sounds calm but the feelings underneath aren’t. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, she said it again how she once wanted to be a teacher, how she imagined herself inspiring students, guiding them, being that person for someone. Her parents wanted to see her as a doctor, so she did what many of us do she chose their dream over hers. Now she’s a vet. A good one. A hardworking one. But the teacher in her still aches.

And I told her something I truly believe: you’re already inspiring people, even if you don’t see it. Teaching isn’t just a profession, it’s an energy. It’s the way you make people think, the way your words stay with someone after a conversation ends. You don’t need a classroom to do that.

We’ve somehow been taught that to teach, you need a specific position, a board, a syllabus, a title. But that’s such a limited way of looking at it. Some of the biggest lessons we learn in life don’t come from teachers in classrooms. They come from people who live honestly, speak bravely, and share what they know without trying to impress anyone.

Take A. P. J. Abdul Kalam. Yes, he was a scientist, a president but more than anything, he was a teacher in the way he spoke to students, believed in young minds, and made people dream bigger. It wasn’t the position that made him inspiring. It was his intent.

That’s what I want her to see in herself. She may not be officially called a teacher, but every time she shares her thoughts, writes something meaningful, speaks on a podcast, or creates art from her heart she’s teaching. She’s shaping minds in quieter, deeper ways. Sometimes, influence doesn’t look loud. Sometimes, it looks like someone reading your words at 2 a.m. and feeling understood.

Maybe she didn’t get the exact path she imagined, but that doesn’t mean the purpose is gone. It just changed its form. She still has so much to give, so much to say, and so many people who can learn from her without ever calling her “ma’am” or “miss.”

Not every teacher stands in front of a class. Some of them sit on the other end of a phone call. Some write. Some speak. Some just live in a way that makes others feel seen. And honestly? That kind of teaching stays longer.

She’s not failing her dream. She’s living it just differently. Not everyone needs a blackboard to be called as a Teacher.