When the student becomes the teacher

As I am preparing for another year of Sunday School, which begins in a few weeks, I find myself wondering: When did I become the teacher instead of the student?

The answer, I realized, wasn’t a single moment. It was the cumulative impact of special teachers and educational experiences that profoundly shaped my life. I have been blessed with more teachers than I can count, but three, in particular, continue to influence who I am five decades later.

Teacher No. 1: Sister Jacqueline Crepeau

St. Francis Xavier Academy, Providence, Rhode Island

Sister Jackie was my beloved high school teacher of American and British literature. She made Shakespeare fun, and I remember our meaningful conversations about Lady Macbeth as an important female protagonist.

I also had notoriously sloppy penmanship, and Sister Jackie inspired me to take pride in what she considered a beautiful name. In a typical teaching approach of that era, she instructed me to neatly write out my full name, Victoria Rose Atamian, about 100 times!

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I have never forgotten the lessons she taught me: to recognize the strength of female protagonists, even with all their flaws, and to take pride in everything connected to my name, including the name itself.

Decades later, I realize how deeply that lesson took root. Today, I am the author of a historical fiction novel featuring strong female protagonists. “Who She Left Behind,” based on my own family’s journey, tells the untold stories of brave and resilient women who became the pillars of their communities as they rebuilt their lives after the Armenian Genocide.

I am also a proud writer for The Armenian Weekly, where I share my perspectives in a monthly column, “Victoria’s Voice.”

Perhaps Sister Jackie was teaching me more than literature all those years ago. She was teaching me to find my voice and to value it.

Teacher No. 2: Dr. Frank Bingham

Professor of marketing, Bryant College, now University), Smithfield, Rhode Island

If Sister Jackie helped me find my voice, Dr. Frank Bingham helped me find my direction.

My enthusiasm in Dr. Bingham’s marketing classes was obvious enough that he once took me aside for a conversation. He observed that I had a knack for marketing and an entrepreneurial mindset and asked about my major. I told him I was studying management because my goal was to become self-employed, and I believed a management degree would provide the best preparation.

He paused and gently gave me a reality check.

Dr. Bingham explained that employers weren’t hiring recent college graduates for their extensive knowledge of managing people or processes. My first job, he pointed out, could very well be as a management trainee in a fast-food restaurant.

He went on to explain that other business majors offered more immediate career options. Accounting majors could use their skills in accounting firms or small businesses, and, yes, even as management trainees in fast-food restaurants. Computer science majors could apply their skills in technology businesses or departments, and, yes, even as management trainees in fast-food restaurants.

By the time he got to marketing majors, the lightbulb had turned on. I understood what he was advising: Choose a field in which you can apply a professional skill from the very beginning.

I spoke with my mother that evening and decided to change my major to marketing the following semester.

That one conversation changed the trajectory of my career. I began my professional life as a marketing associate at a savings and loan association and remained in marketing and sales for more than 20 years. My commitment to advancing women in leadership eventually led me to mentor and provide career advice to leaders at every level through my entrepreneurial venture with Leading Women Massachusetts.

Then came the next chapter: the nonprofit world, where marketing continues to serve me every day, particularly in fundraising, storytelling and building relationships.

Looking back, Dr. Bingham taught me something that has stayed with me throughout my career. Sometimes a teacher’s most important lesson is the one that changes the direction of your life.

Teacher No. 3: St. Nersess Seminary

Westchester County, New York

And then there was a different kind of teacher, not simply a professor or classroom instructor, but a community of mentors who helped shape my faith and my sense of purpose.

“Deacon Mike,” who has since been ordained as Der Mardiros Chevian, directed the summer studies program for teens at St. Nersess Seminary. It was a life-changing experience for many of us, including me.

During our first summer, my brother and I, along with 11 other teens, boarded a train to New York filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. We were eager for two fun-filled weeks away from home with Armenian teenagers from across the country.

And it certainly was fun. But its impact was far more profound.

Deacon Mike had a unique ability to motivate and inspire us with the right message at exactly the right moment in our young lives. At first, we learned from him and the other leaders. But before long, we began to open up, share, question and learn from one another.

What unfolded over those two weeks was more than a summer program. It was a spiritual journey that gave us a depth of connection and insight that many people don’t experience in a lifetime.

When the two weeks came to an end, we shared tearful goodbyes while already counting down the days until we could reunite the following summer.

But, as it turned out, summer was only the beginning.

We continued participating in organized weekends with church youth groups. By the time we graduated from Sunday School, most of us had taken on active roles in serving the church — singing in the choir, teaching Sunday School or assisting at the altar. The bonds we formed that first summer continued to grow and flourish, guiding many of us toward meaningful and fulfilling paths of service within our community.

Today, many of those program alumni serve as leaders in our churches. And when two of us meet somewhere in the community, we often recognize one another through that shared experience and the legacy of service it planted in us as teenagers.

For me, that legacy has included teaching Sunday School throughout college, returning to it when my own children were young, and continuing today as I have more time to dedicate.

A few years ago, when I once again raised my hand to teach,
I looked around the room and quietly asked myself,
“If not me, then who?”

And perhaps that is when the student truly becomes the teacher, is when we realize we don’t have all the answers. But we do have something worth passing on.

Each of these teachers helped shape the person I am proud to be today. Sister Jackie encouraged me to find and value my voice. Dr. Bingham helped me discover a career where I could thrive. And St. Nersess taught me that our gifts are not meant only for ourselves, but for serving others.

I have become someone who can write, mentor and teach. Perhaps more importantly, someone who believes she should.

Perhaps none of my readers, mentees or students will remember every lesson I share. And that’s okay. Because I have come to believe that a teacher’s greatest lesson may not be what is taught. It is what is role-modeled and lived.