Ms. Prince Shares the Power of Teaching on National Teachers’ Day

On Tuesday, May 5, Upper School English Teacher Ms. Celeste Prince spoke at an Upper School assembly on National Teachers’ Day. She shared about a teacher who inspired her as a student, her efforts to create a strong sense of community at MICDS, and how—after 10 years at MICDS—she’s had the rewarding, full-circle experience where some of her students have now become her colleagues. Check out the boisterous, meaningful remarks from Ms. Prince below and don’t forget to tell your teachers how much they mean to you this Teacher Appreciation Week!

Good afternoon! Today is National Teachers’ Day, and this whole week is dedicated to Teacher Appreciation. If it’s okay with you, I wanted to take a little time to reflect on why this week is important for me, as a teacher and a person. And it’s not just because of the treats.

So here, I am Ms. Prince, and I teach English in the upper school. In 2016, I moved to St. Louis from Houston and started teaching at MICDS—that’s my first faculty photo on the left, and also me on the first day of school. So young! 

This year also officially marks 10 years here at MICDS, and 15 years overall of being Ms. Prince.

But—roll with me—over 20 years ago, I was just Celeste. I went to high school in Colorado, and as you can probably tell from the photos, I was one of just a handful of students of color in my school. Out of 337 people in my graduating class, I estimate there were maybe 20 of us total. As much as I loved my friends, the experience was a bit lonely. I felt both invisible and hypervisible and wasn’t sure how to navigate that dynamic—so like most kids of immigrants, I threw all my self-worth into school. Totally healthy! 

Looking back, I only remember a few things I learned in high school, but I remember how I felt: awkward, confused, exhausted, overwhelmed. The noise inside my head sounded like constant thunder.

That noise quieted, though, whenever I was in Mrs. Starkey’s AP English class. Let me tell you about this woman. She’d been at the school for about 30 years, teaching next door to her husband Mr. Starkey who also taught English. She had a mullet, loved the Denver Broncos, and adored books so much that she named her daughter after a J. D. Salinger character. She didn’t use an online gradebook—she flat out refused to, honestly. Instead, she would sit on the floor (barefoot!) in the middle of our classroom with her paper gradebook in front of her and volley questions at us and then give you a “bonus A” if you said something insightful. 

Obviously, I loved her. Every day in class was fun and energetic. We laughed, argued, made mistakes, and tried again. I looked forward to our block days and hated leaving her room. I once wrote an in-class essay for the book All the Pretty Horses, and she put it up on the overhead to show to the class as a good example; I smiled for weeks. 

My friends and I often said, “I want to be Mrs. Starkey when I grow up.” But I took that promise seriously.

So fast forward a little—I ended up in Texas, first teaching creative writing at an arts school and then English at a public charter school in Houston. Here’s the thing: everyone thinks they know what school is like because they are or used to be a student, but I learned very quickly that the things Mrs. Starkey did in class that looked effortless to us probably meant she spent hours outside of our 55-minute class time preparing. My weekends and weeknights were completely devoted to teacher work, but the bright spots were, as every teacher will tell you, my students. I attended quinceañeras, recitals, honor roll ceremonies, and of course, graduations. So even though I was hundreds of miles away from my loved ones, my students became a pseudo family for me. We built a community. 

I have worked hard to replicate that sense of community here at MICDS. That means cheering (loudly!) at your choir concert, sending you happy birthday emails, and making you tea when you’re not feeling well. It also looks like dragging you back to advisory or telling you to apologize to a classmate because we don’t talk to each other like that. I know that there’s always someone who thinks I’m not real—because honestly, how is she that energetic at 8 a.m.?—but if you’ve ever been my student or advisee, I hope you see how much your other teachers and I genuinely care about you. You are more than a grade, an awkward interaction, or a quick comment to us. You are Billy, Grace, London, Vishinsky, Adrian, and Justyce.

It’s been 10 years at MICDS, and I’ve taught eight different graduating classes and many of their siblings. I’ve championed so many students and their accomplishments, but now I’ve reached a new milestone in my career, where my former students have become my colleagues. Of all my achievements, this feels like the best one.

Mrs. Starkey retired from teaching over 20 years ago, but she is still my teacher. She still makes time to message me on the first and last days of school, and send me encouragement on the harder days in between. Whenever I hear from her, I am 17 years old again, staring at her with tears in my eyes as she holds my hand and tells me that I can do anything. She has been championing me for over 20 years. I have worked my whole career to be like Mrs. Starkey, and that might be an impossible task, but God knows I won’t stop trying. 

For this teacher appreciation week, I wish you all a Mrs. Starkey in your life. Whoever that is for you, make sure they know how much they mean to you. 

I’ll go first: 

Coach Sutton [Joshua Sutton, Sports Information Specialist and Varsity Boys Track & Field Assistant Coach], you are a beacon for your athletes. Ms. JB [Asia Johnson-Brimmage, Upper School Visual Art Teacher], your passion and care for art are examples for us all. Mrs. Starkey, you changed my life for good. Thank you.

Happy teacher appreciation week, y’all. Thank you for listening.