Personal Branding Lessons from my First English Teacher. Tactics #6
And a part of my life that is gone forever.
In my earphones as I write this text:
When I was 12 years old, my mother enrolled me in a private English course; the language teaching at the public school where I studied was very weak and she knew I would need this skill for the job market when I grew up. I already showed some ease in learning languages, which made my mother pay for the course gladly despite financial limitations. It was a school in my neighborhood, in a blue house with a low white front wall, where I went on foot every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, without fail or running late. These were the coolest days of my week!
The best teacher I’ve ever had, Maria Inez, taught only a few classes, as she was also the school's director and owner. She was the reason I also attended the school outside of class hours. She said she saw a bit of herself in me when she was young: we both learned the language very quickly and loved to share what we knew. We had a special connection. I took the opportunity to practice my English as she would tell me her life stories.
Maria Inez was in her 50s, single, without children, graduated in Engineering, and lived with her mother. As a teenager, she went on an exchange to the United States, where she returned numerous times later and made some best friends. She had her heart broken by an ex-boyfriend who, in my adult evaluation today, kept her far and close at the same time, but never close enough to have a healthy functional relationship.
A strong personal brand is memorable
My teacher was a Beatlemaniac. She told me about times she had seen them live and her walks through Abbey Road. She also told me everything she saw on her international trips. When I was growing up, I found it so cool to talk to someone who had been abroad so many times. My mother did not have money for trips (inside or outside of Brazil), so knowing other places seemed an impossible dream to me.
The whole school smelled of vanilla. It was the “scent of Maria Inez”. Once, she showed me a small squared transparent bottle of vanilla essential oil, which she had been using for years and used to buy abroad; it was a drop on the neck and another on the wrist. When I hugged her, I’d also get that scent of freshly baked cookies on me.
She had been wearing braces for decades, despite having straight teeth. If she removed them, the teeth would bend again because of bruxism. I found it funny, because in my child's mind - who also wore braces - that was a child's thing, not an adult's.
Her room was all decorated, full of knick-knacks. Little frogs, angels, porcelain, glass, and ceramic dolls adorned the surfaces. She was dedicated and careful with detail.
Despite not having many memories of my childhood, this was a phase in which I built vivid memories.
When I moved to another city and started college, our bond began to dissolve. Although I lived in a neighboring city, I returned to São Vicente only one more time, many years ago. Our interactions were restricted to Facebook, which I stopped using after a while.
Today, 26 years later, it is still impossible to see, hear, or read anything about the Beatles and not remember Maria Inez's lit-up face of happiness. It is impossible to smell a vanilla perfume and not remember her hug. It is impossible to see any gray-haired adult with braces and not remember her colorful smile. It is impossible to learn a new difficult word and not remember her teachings. She was a great case of personal branding, as she embraced all her peculiarities. Just like we all have.
Yesterday I logged into Facebook, after a long time, to share with her that I now write in English for my new professional project, certain she would be very proud. That's when I saw, on her page, a post from December informing of her passing. I questioned myself whether she saw my wanderings through Europe and my career transition through posts automatically shared on Facebook by Instagram. I hope she did.
Missing what was not lived in recent years, I searched for the school's address on Google Maps:
It’s on this empty plot where I started dreaming impossible dreams; the dreams I live today.
Com saudades,
Tati.
Esse texto chegou igual uma voadora em mim! Comecei a ler para começar o meu dia e cá estou me debulhando em lágrimas. Moro fora do país e a casa em que cresci foi demolida recentemente. Você me fez voltar em muitas memórias! Parabéns pelo texto, eu amo a forma como você escreve :)
I loved the story! So proud of each step you have been taking :)
Com saudades, your bff.