Ms. Christina Hansen - MHS

Talking with Ms. Hansen feels like sitting across from someone who is honest in the best way. She does not try to make her story sound perfect or linear, and that is exactly what makes it powerful. Because when you hear how she became a teacher, you realize something important. Sometimes the path that makes the most sense is the one that takes time.

When I asked what inspired her to become a teacher, she said it started the way it starts for a lot of people who truly belong around kids, which is exactly how I feel. For her, it felt natural, as she liked working with kids, had always been around kids, and teaching just felt right. In college, it also felt like the most direct path, something practical that made sense and something she could do quickly and confidently. But then she told me the story of her first real experience in a classroom, and I will never forget it.

Ms. Hansen was 21 years old during her first student teaching. She walked into a first grade classroom, and within a few hours, she realized she was not ready. She spent the morning observing, trying to take it all in, and when recess came, she told the teacher she needed to grab something from her car. She never came back. She got in her car, drove away, and quit. The program called her, looking for her, but she did not answer. She was 21, and the responsibility felt too big. She did not want to be in charge of an entire classroom of kids when she still felt like she was still figuring out herself. Instead of forcing it, she chose something that most people are scared to do. She walked away. And for the next fourteen years, she just lived her life.

She went through multiple jobs: working at a law firm as a legal secretary, working in the billing department of a hospital, and working at Starbucks. She took jobs that were fine, jobs that paid the bills, and jobs that made sense on paper. During this time, she traveled, moved around, and tried new hobbies and passions. But she said that none of it ever felt like the thing she was supposed to be doing. She described those years as temporary, like she was waiting to land in the place that actually fit.

Eventually, she returned to her hometown Bakersfield, and after her grandparents passed away, she reached a moment where she needed stability. She needed a real job, and teaching came back into view, not as a random option, but as something that had always been quietly waiting for her. 

She went back to school, retook a few needed classes, and reentered the credential process. When she returned, she was in her thirties, and she told me that the difference between 21 and 33 felt massive. At 21, she was overwhelmed by the responsibility, but at 33, she was ready. When she walked into that student teaching classroom for the second time, it finally felt right.

Ms. Hansen said one of the most important things about her teaching philosophy is that she treats her students the way she would treat her own kids. She said it is always coming from love, even when she is frustrated, even when she is joking, even when she is being firm. She wants her students to feel that underneath everything is care. To her, the most important part of teaching is not just academics. It is creating a space where kids feel safe and comfortable, and where they actually want to come to school. Because if a classroom does not feel safe, learning will never happen. It does not matter how good the lesson plan is. This is something I will always remember Ms. Hansen for. I always felt like I was at home in her classroom, from the constant love and encouragement that she gave off. One specific time I will always cherish was the day the class phone rang. Luckily for me, I sat right next to the class phone and Ms. Hansen allowed me to answer the phone. I vividly remember saying, “Hi, student speaking!” and from that moment on I took on the role of student helper which included answering the class phone. She always created an inclusive and fun environment for me and my classmates, and I will forever remember those special comforting moments of my third grade year.

She also talked about what she considers one of the biggest challenges of being a teacher, which is how teachers show up every day and create that safe space for kids even when their own life is messy. Even when there are college applications, family stress, sickness, travel, or whatever else is happening outside the classroom, she described how hard it can be to put everything aside, walk in, and still bring a smile and steady energy for kids who need consistency. It is a challenge teachers face constantly, and the way she talked about it made me realize how much emotional work teaching actually requires.

When I asked if there was a student who left a lasting impact, she said something that felt so real. She told me that sometimes she cannot remember every single kid’s face years later, but she remembers the feeling of a class. She remembers the energy, the personality, the emotional memory of being with them, and she said she still feels that way about my class. She also said the students who tend to stand out most are often the ones who were the most difficult, the ones who challenged her so much that she could never forget them. Then she told me a story that explains exactly why her impact is bigger than she probably realizes.

She recently received an email from a former student who had moved from Taiwan to the United States as a child. He wrote to tell her that when he first arrived, no one in his family spoke English, and walking into an American school felt terrifying. But he said that her classroom made him feel safe, and that safety stayed with him. Years later, he had become a doctor in Taiwan, and he still remembered her kindness as part of his foundation. Ms. Hansen told me she felt guilty because she did not recognize him. She could not pick him out from photos, and she still did not fully remember him even after he sent pictures. But to me, that story shows something bigger. Teaching is not always a two way memory. Students carry teachers in their hearts long after teachers have moved on to the next group of kids. The comfort a teacher creates can become a lifelong imprint, even if the teacher never knows it. That is the kind of impact that cannot be measured by test scores but by the unique personalities that radiate throughout each teacher’s classroom.

Ms. Hansen also opened up about her own relationship with school as a kid. Her favorite subject was reading, which surprised her because she was often placed in the low reading group. But as an adult, she realized why she loved it anyway. Her teachers made it fun. They made her feel like she belonged in it, even if it did not come easily.

Then she shared a story that stuck with her for life. Her third grade math teacher once told her, “It’s okay. Girls don’t have to be good at math.” She remembered how, at the time, she accepted it like a relief. She thought it meant she could stop worrying about math and just be a reader. But that comment followed her for years, shaping how she saw herself and what she believed she was allowed to be good at. That moment is one of the reasons stories like hers matter. Teachers can shape confidence with a sentence. They can open doors or quietly close them. Ms. Hansen is clearly the kind of teacher who tries to open doors.

When I asked what she would do if she were not a teacher, she answered immediately. She would be a travel writer. She described the dream of traveling everywhere and writing about it, like the classic travel books that make you want to pack your bags and leave. Hearing that made perfect sense because even in her teaching story, you can tell she has always been someone who needed freedom, experience, and a wider world before settling into her calling.

And then she shared what she calls her teaching trick, and it made me laugh because it was so honest. She said you have to be a little bit crazy. In the same way she parents, she sometimes comes down hard on a student who needs it, then flips immediately and becomes overly sweet and cheerful with the rest of the class. She said it makes her look unpredictable in a funny way, like the kids are not totally sure what version of her they are going to get. But this strategy works because students learn quickly. Negative behavior gets a firm response, and positive behavior gets attention and warmth. It is a form of classroom management that is rooted in clarity, energy, and relationship, not fear. 

Toward the end, I asked her advice, and her answer felt like something every student needs to hear, especially during the years where everything feels overwhelming. She said effort makes all the difference, relationships and work ethic matters, and being willing to fail matters as she explained that someone can be naturally smart, but without life skills and without the willingness to put in the effort, they will not be successful. Meanwhile, the person who has struggled more often becomes scrappier, developing strategies, and learning how to problem solve when something is not working. Her advice was not about being perfect. It was about becoming a whole person.

Ms. Hansen’s story is the kind that reminds you teaching is not always a straight line. Sometimes the best teachers are the ones who stepped away first. The ones who tried other lives. The ones who came back when they were ready, grounded, and sure of themselves. Because when Ms. Hansen returned, she did not just return to her job. She returned to the place that finally felt right. And you can feel that in the way she talks about her classroom, her students, and the kind of teacher she works hard to be every single day.