Teenage years are often remembered as a season of discovery and first steps toward independence. Mine were no different. I attended a progressive school where students' curiosity and autonomy were nurtured, and respect flowed both ways. Most teachers treated us as young adults, and we rose to meet those expectations.
Until one teacher arrived - and changed everything.
She came from another respected school, yet her presence quickly shifted the culture we knew. Instead of guiding, she marched in to rule. Trust was replaced with control. Rules suddenly felt arbitrary. During the short break between classes, we were ordered to sit frozen at our desks. We were 14 and 15 year olds - already trusted for years with responsibility. Suddenly, we were reduced to children under watch.
What uneased me most was her pride in dominance. She openly admitted to picking on student - not for misconduct, but by choice. At times she would say, with a smirk, "yes, I am picking on you." I simply couldn’t see what wrong the poor student had done. Worse still, she encouraged us to report on each other. In a school where diligence and self-motivation were the norm, it was totally out of place and corrosive. Not sure if she would understand, we simply had nothing to report each other on.
Choosing to act
At that age, I felt indignant. We were capable, motivated students. Being veterans of our school culture, we had never endured anything like this before - and we shouldn't have to start now.
So I came up with a plan that, to a 14-year-old, felt just right.
Quietly, I wrote an anonymous letter to the principal, detailing her conduct. Fearing retaliation, I did not sign it. But the words needed to be said.
The letter landed, and it brought consequences - for her. She came under scrutiny. All the petty cruelties stopped, and when the year ended, she did not continue with us into the next. Over the years, while other strong teachers advanced into senior roles, she remained in place until retirement. As far as I know, no attempt was made to identify the letter writer. No one ever mentioned it again. I simply continued my studies, just as any ordinary student for the next few years.
The lasting lesson
Years later, I watched the Slovak film The Teacher (2016). Its main character, Mária, manipulated her students and their parents, wielding power through coercion. My teacher's actions were far less extreme, yet the parallels were there. So the memory returned.
And I realised something: while I had moved on in life - finishing school, going on to university, starting a career - a part of me had stayed rooted in that moment. I remain a strong believer that authority without checks and balances should never be allowed to thrive. And I still believe that even small acts - like an unsigned letter from a 14-year-old - can tilt the balance back toward fairness.
When my daughter comes of age, I will share the story with her - not to boast, but to show her how standing up matters. Courage, even quiet courage, counts.