Mr. James & Mr. Holmes

During my junior year of high school I had that teacher. You know the one. That teacher that changes everything and shapes your teenage life. Mine was Mr. James. He was very tall, probably in his late 50’s or early 60’s (I’m bad at guessing ages), always chewed a piece of gum, hated the Utah Jazz, loved the L.A. Lakers, and called everybody by their surnames. He also said I was a pod person. I’m not entirely sure why. He had a VERY dry sense of humor, so it was hard to tell if he really would deduct 50,000 points from your grade, or if he was just being funny. Many times, the rest of the class would be staring at him with fear in their eyes and I’d have tears of laughter in mine. During his class, one of our assignments was an “I-Search,” which is a paper that you research on your own. Complete bibliography, interviews, proper format, the works. But the kicker was, you got to pick your own topic.

I was very excited to write mine. I’m a horrendous procrastinator and was determined that I was going to do as much ahead of schedule as I could, hopefully avoiding tears and bloodshed later on. Now, I had Mr. James for the first third of the school year and the last third. During the second third, when a whole bunch of my friends were starting their papers, I quizzed them. What was the first step? What came next? What could I do without actually being in the class? I picked my topic and started working on my premise. Sherlock Holmes: Then and Now. Basically, why was Sherlock Holmes SO famous in 1887 when the first story was published and what’s so freakin’ cool about him that he’s still so famous today?

Yes. I am a geek.

By the time I had Mr. James for class again, I was rarin’ to go. I did my interviews, compiled my sources, wrote to Sherlock Holmes societies for information and, hopefully, useful quotes. I wrote it carefully. Let my parents tweak it, double check it, and prod the hell out of it. I don’t remember crying during that process, but Mum might remember differently. I turned it in, confident that I had worked my ass off and put in all the effort I could have.

A few days later, Mr. James came into class and towered over me. He pointed at me with one long index finger and said, “Ms. Trottier.”

I thought to myself, “Holy hell! What did I do?!” But, out loud I said, “Yes?”

He glanced at the rest of the class and said, “Ms. Trottier has written one of the best I-Searches I’ve read in years.”

My eyebrows hit my hairline and I mumbled, “Really?”

“There were a couple of technical mistakes, but it was so well written you still got over a hundred percent.”

Coming from Mr. James, this was HUGE! It’s like someone else jumping up and down and squealing with delight. All I could do was sit there with my mouth hanging open, looking like a fool. People stared at me and started asking what I had written my paper on that made Mr. James compliment me. I said, with an evil grin, “Sherlock Holmes.”

They were appalled. They had written about abortion rights and gays in the military and I had written about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER!!! It was a pretty cool feeling.

So, wherever you are out there, Mr. James, thank you for the inspiration, the guidance, and the laughs. And know that this pod person is very much enjoying her planetary sojourn.