The Wisdom of "So What?" by Elizabeth

The Wisdom of "So What?" by Elizabeth - July 2014 Scholarship Essay

“So what?” These two questioning words have become a defining moment in my education; they mark the place where learning went from hoop jumping to meaningful. Despite presenting the illusion of a simple question, the words “so,” and “what” when strung together, form a formidable argument.

With her slight stature and a height below the average middle school student, Sherry Gillies, a woman of her late thirties, or perhaps, early forties, is rather the very definition of petite. But of course size has nothing to do with it, Mrs. Gillies, librarian of Lincoln Middle School, made up for everything with her dynamic personality, and her almost uncanny ability to dish out a clever comeback. And “So what?” was her response to me, although not exactly in the context one would expect.

I first became aware of my brown, bobbed librarian my seventh grade year when I was ambitious enough to tackle a National History Day project. Mrs. Gillies, the teacher advising the students, struck me as an intelligent, playful, “book guardian” with high standards. Coming off to me as strict with a rather ironic sense of humor, Mrs. Gillies, its safe to say, intimidated me with her wide range of knowledge and expectations. And that is why I looked up to her, I admired her quick cleverness, and ability to understand those around her. Despite her busy schedule, she set aside time to meet with me, and those brief dialogues left a big impression. And “So what?” is the very first question she asked me when I presented my project’s thesis statement.

I went into that meeting with a slight arrogance, believing that I had truly grasped the meaning of the project. Yet upon hearing my thesis, the two words out of her mouth dumbfounded me. Try as I might I could not answer that simple question. I had absolutely no idea how to even form a reasonable explanation. “So what?” was the question that made me realize how limited my perceptions of history, not to mention reality, were. Up until that moment in my life, I had failed to look for the big picture; I had failed to analyze the world in such a way that did not include me in its center. Although it no doubt took—and will still take—reflection to grasp the significance of this encounter, my perspective of the world and its many gears has morphed from something of self-focus to one of broad awareness.

In the succeeding year—my eighth grade year—I once again became involved in National History Day, only this time I was far more determined and constructed my project with “So what?” simmering beneath the surface of my conscious mind.

As eighth grade year went by, a subtle change came about. Mrs. Gillies’s already fragile frame became, if possible, even more delicate. I at the time, being the self absorbed pre-teen I was, I took little heed of the change other than to complain to my peers of the poor timed days, and soon weeks, our librarian began to take off. Never had I stopped to fully contemplate what these absences implied, or what they would bring.

Cancer.

A brain tumor to be more precise, the doctors found it after she became ill. Her only option was immediate surgery followed by therapy.

Mrs. Gillies did not let her illness define her. After only a few months of recovery from surgery, Mrs. G. returned to school. With the exception of her hair and a loss in body mass, our librarian gave no sign of her diminishing condition. By her jovial personality she kept her situation lighthearted and hopeful through her humorous wig references, which pertained to the dark-brown one that had replaced her natural strawberry-brown bob.

Thinking back, the only time I ever heard Mrs. Gillies even come close to referencing her health was in an explanation as to the snack sized box of Junior Mints she was eating while listening to me outline my project revisions for Nationals. “Trying to gain weight,” she explained nonchalantly offering me the open side of the container, “Doctor’s orders.”

Although this essay merely highlights a single shade of this complex, colorful character, I still hope to convey that she was the teacher who always went the extra mile for her students and more specifically me.

She was the one teacher who let me vent about my stresses over lunch, she broadened my literary tastes, enhanced my research and writing abilities, and above all, was a positive influence on my attitude toward learning.

The summer after I graduated Lincoln Middle, Mrs. Gillies turned in her resignation and now continues to fight heroically with the support of her family and friends.

So here is to Mrs. Gillies, who truly understands the “So what?” of education, and for that matter, the “So what?” of life.

Thank you Mrs. G.