Meeting Dr. Welch
On turning disappointment into fuel
Meeting my Heroes is an occasional essay series from Matt Carmichael.
This is a story of a great piece of advice, and one of those nudges that can change your life.
Dr. Jeffery Welch was my freshman year English teacher and my advisor. He was wicked smart, super literate and didn’t put up with my slacking. Yes, I slacked. He once commented on an assignment I turned in “Were you watching TV when you wrote this? Were you alive?” And he wrote something about continuing to water the my word horde so it would grow, etc.
The reason he was hard on me (I think? I hope?) was because he knew I could do better, but wasn’t trying very hard.
One of the most frustrating things for teachers (and parents) is dealing with the kids who aren’t living up to their potential. This is a cliche thing to say, but it’s true. It’s truer now than ever. The world needs smart kids who will grow up to be smart adults. Every bit of that that’s wasted means one fewer person who can help solve some of the monumental problems coming generations (and the rest of us) will face. Big problems need big brains, working together, to solve them. Those problems will require math, and science, and good writing and communication to solve.
Somewhat related, I often think of an important, prescient and evergreen piece of advice he once gave me.
Protect yourself from the idiots.
That feels as if it’s getting harder and harder these days. The idiots are everywhere, it seems, and they have figured out how to cheat their way to victory.
Even as a futurist, it’s sometimes hard to imagine the future we’re facing, but I have to believe that in the end, the smart folks will win.
Dr. Welch is also included here because of a simple thing he said to me in the hallway once that completely changed my life.
It was my junior year and I ran into him outside the math class rooms. We talked about the student newspaper, which I’d started writing some stories for. I mentioned that I was going to apply to be an associate editor. He said, “Why not editor-in-chief?”
That’s the thing about great teachers. They push you and challenge you. He wanted me to live up to my potential and new that with the right nudge I could pull it off.
When a teacher tells you you’re good at something — believe them. Even, or especially, if you’re unsure yourself.
Likewise, sometimes a teacher (not a good teacher, mind you) will tell you that you’re not good at something, or not cut out for something. If you disagree, double down, push yourself and there is nothing more satisfying than showing them up when you succeed. More on that soon.
Dr. Welch got me thinking. The newspaper has a small staff, probably not too many applicants and often multiple people were “chiefs.” My odds weren’t bad. It would be interesting experience, and frankly look good on my college applications.
So I applied, and got it — I was one of three “chiefs” in the end. Thus began my journalism experience, which I loved, and led me to apply to Medill at Northwestern. Which led to all sorts of other things.
In today’s world, there was a lot wrong with that picture.
I didn’t really have much experience but I went for the big job. There’s a lot of privilege involved in all of that scenario, not the least of which being that it took place at an exclusive private school. And that privilege was a gateway to others, that were in turn a gateway to still more.
But privilege is only part of the battle. It can certainly open doors. But you also have to be prepared to take advantage of the opportunities presented to you. Sometimes you still have to make your own. Then you have to work hard to earn the place you’ve landed in.
I’d like to think I put in my hours at the paper and that we put out a decent product that helped inform and entertain our community. I realize I’m making too big of a deal about it, too. But in the moment, it meant something, and long-term the experience meant something to me, too.