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Editor’s Note: In May 2015, EdNC’s Mebane Rash met Chyna Delk-Bratcher, a student in Hoke County Schools who had won a medal for her public speaking skills. Delk-Bratcher is now a teacher in Hoke County.
During my eighth grade year, we returned from a long summer break and jumped right into routine. My middle school AVID teacher gave us a writing prompt: “What did you do over the summer?”
Some students wrote about camping trips, Disney vacations, or traveling overseas. But for me, the truth sat heavy in my heart — I hadn’t done any of those things.
My summer had been different. That year, my family packed up all our belongings and moved out of our five-bedroom home into a single motel room.
Still, I wrote. I shared my truth in my journal, unsure of how my teacher would react, or if my classmates would see me differently.
The next morning, my teacher quietly pulled me aside. She looked me in the eyes and asked if there was anything I needed. What happened next changed my life.
All of my teachers came together. They brought me everything I needed for school and, that winter, they gave my family a Christmas we never expected. I realized that teachers were more than instructors of reading and math — they were life-changers. World- shapers. Givers of hope through small, selfless acts.
Now that I’m a teacher myself, I know how tight finances can be. But my teachers didn’t let that stop them. Their kindness planted a seed in me, and that seed grew into a purpose. Because of their compassion, I became an educator.
In my first year of teaching, that passion was tested. I had just finished my undergraduate degree and was wrapping up my graduate studies in elementary education when I stepped into my first fifth grade classroom. I loved it — the students, the content, the memories we were creating. My class was full of unique, bright souls from different backgrounds, but we were building something special together.
As the year wore on, though, the weight grew heavier. Unrealistic expectations from administration and parents, a lack of support, and an overwhelming workload slowly chipped away at my joy. By the end of the year, I made the difficult decision to resign. I had two degrees in education, but in that moment, I was done. I didn’t care that I didn’t have another job lined up — I just needed peace.
That summer, I wrestled with the thought: Was I really done with teaching?
Then, one day, something nudged me to try a grade I swore I never would: kindergarten. I took a leap and applied for a position at a new school. I got the job.
At first, I was nervous and unsure. But something beautiful happened. My passion began to return. Slowly, steadily, I felt joy again. I started an Instagram page, MsBeeClass, as a way to pour back into the educator community, to uplift and encourage others the way I had once been uplifted.
My content has reached millions of people since. Thousands of educators have messaged me saying they were ready to give up until they found my page. My journey, my vulnerability, my heart — it reminded them why they started.
And it all goes back to that one act of kindness. Because of those teachers who saw me and loved me in a time when they didn’t have to, I now use my voice to remind educators that their lives matter. Their joy matters. Their peace matters.
Even in the midst of all the challenges in education, I’ll keep speaking up. I’ll do it for the ones who feel like they’re on their last thread, for the ones who need to be reminded: You still make a difference.
