Ari’s school had a teacher shortage and thankfully some parents, who already worked as educators, stepped in to work at the school. The other day Ari asked me if I could work at his school, too.

I was caught off guard by the request and went into a spiel on how I am a writer and I really enjoy what I do for work. But like all moms, I felt guilty. I remember my own mother working at my Catholic school and I loved it -- up until about 6th grade. Then I wanted to re-locate to another country apart from my parents. LOL!

But I felt guilty about my real thoughts: The idea of spending my days with 20 preschoolers makes me want to run and scream for the hills. God bless those of you who do this for a living. But I really don’t have the patience and am counting down the minutes until Eli is 3 and eligible to attend the school.

Still, I remember looking at my sweet boy, singing and talking to himself, and wondering if he is missing out on something because I am not more involved in his classroom. What do you think? How do you handle mommy guilt?

Being the first in my family to go away for college, I heavily relied on my high school teachers in New Hampshire to not only prepare me academically, but give me letters of recommendation and actually help put together a college application.

My business education teacher let me come to her class during my study break so that I could type my essay. (I had no computer.)

A reading teacher in the English department drilled me on SAT questions after school. My sophomore year English teacher, who took me under her wing, convinced her to help me. She received no payment for her time. My mother thanked her with a flan.

My senior year English teacher spent her lunch breaks helping me craft an essay. I visited her a year later when I was home from school, and she told me she still shared my essay with her students. I almost cried.

Seriously, these lowly paid women made a huge difference in my life inside and outside the classroom. They instilled in me a lifetime of learning. To this day, I have utmost respect for teachers and have sometimes flirted with becoming a teacher, too.

Most recently, Bay Area Parent ran letters from readers who remembered their favorite teachers, evoking some of my fondest childhood memories:

We’re only up to second grade so far, but here’s what I feel makes a good teacher. Noticing special things about each child and teaching them accordingly. He or she should not assume anything about a child, based on appearance, older siblings, the parents, etc. Children are a bud, ready to bloom, with a teacher that will let them do it their own way.

One of my favorite moments during my daughter’s first grade year was when her wonderful, seasoned teacher, Ms. Kono, called each student up on the last day of class, and, in front of everyone, told one thing that was special about each kid. She took the time to really notice what was unique about each child -- how they had the most energy of any student, or the fanciest handwriting, or how they loved animals.

It really made each kid feel great, whether it was a “scholarly” quality or not. It mattered that they were a special person, not just a proficient student. That’s the kind of compliment that will encourage anyone to do what they do best, not just encourage those who are best at readin’, writin’ and arithmetic.

--Heidi, Berkeley