The first time I ever got caught cheating.

It was 7th grade Language Arts at Parks Junior High School.

3rd period Language Arts taught by Mrs. Bleker was probably my favorite course next to Foods and Sewing during 7th grade. She quickly became my favorite teacher and I always looked forward to what story we'd be discussing that day, and cry during the days where we'd skip 3rd period. (Parks ran an interesting schedule where the periods would shift and rotate every day.)

Just as quickly as I picked Mrs. Bleker to become my favorite teacher that year, I too quickly became one of her favorite students. I was loud, opinionated, outspoken, and brash. I never hesitated to raise my hand to offer my insights on readings from the text book or The Outsiders. I challenged the author, asked why a certain character did what, and correct my fellow classmates. I was absolutely sure that I was probably disliked by the rest of my peers, but I didn't care. I sought Mrs. Bleker's approval and hers only. I even took to spending my Nutrition breaks in her class just to discuss the assigned reading and hundreds of other topics. I eventually became close and comfortable enough with her to begin revealing more of my personal life, about my family, my strained relationship with my parents, and the stresses of being a swimmer. She listened, gave me advice, and secretly let me borrow books from her class to take home, a number one no-no rule she told the entire class on the first day of school. For some reason, she trusted me. In return, she too began telling me about her life story, her hometown in Fort Worth, Texas, how she became an English teacher, and her favorite novels. She trusted me with her personal details the same way she trusted me to return the classroom novels she secretly lent me. This private "library" contract we had started from when I told her I was determined to finish every book in her bookcase in the classroom by the end of the year. She even started letting me help her grade papers, essays, in class quizzes, etc. I became her regular helper as the weeks went by.

She was my favorite teacher for a reason, beyond our secret contracts, our student-teacher relationship, her teaching skills, and the subject of Language Arts. She taught me more than what any classroom setting could teach me. She taught me about life and its lessons. The lessons we read about in every story paralleled my own personal stories about struggles and triumphs.

But that's just the kind of teacher Mrs. Bleker really is.

I remember one random weekday while I was rushing to my locker after lunch, I passed by Mrs. Bleker's room, and she called out my name. Startled, I walked in and poked my head timidly.

"Gina, come here," Mrs. Bleker excitedly urged. I walked over to her desk. There was a man standing by her desk, handsome and clean cut.

"Gina, this is my husband, ______. I told him so much about you. I wanted you to meet him."

Mr. Bleker stuck out his hand. "Hi Gina," he said. "I heard so much about you. I hear you've read almost every book in the bookcase!"

I laughed, thanked him, and awkwardly shook his hand. I couldn't believe she told anyone about me outside the classroom. I felt privileged nonetheless, knowing that Mrs. Bleker was proud enough of me to tell her husband about me. I was happy she wanted me to meet the love of her life.

Halfway through the semester she hand selected a group of 8 students whose computer-based Reading Comprehension tests scores surpassed far beyond the rest of the class, and she assigned the group novels that differed from what the rest of the class was reading for that week. To my surprise, I had secured a spot in this group of 8 that made me feel like I was inducted into some intellectually gifted hall of fame.

I remember the second day of school, she explained to us that she ran a private grading system which would base most of our grades and credit in the class with a computer based Reading Comprehension test that she designed. If we finished a book, we were to take a test about the book to score points for our grade. This system was supposed to help our grade out immensely, if we were either failing or needed some extra boost to turn that B into an A. If we passed the 10 question test, we could move onto the next novel. A fail meant that we had to retake it again if we wanted to get points. Each book was worth a certain amount of points, depending on the reading level or the length of it. Every book in the classroom had a quiz for us to take on the computer, and Mrs. Bleker also had books that weren't in the classroom but that we might have encountered anyway.

At my first attempt to take a test, to my surprise, I found the comprehensive list almost...easy. As my eyes scrolled down the entire database of every book we could take a test on and win points for, to my delight I realized I had read at least 3/4 of the list already. I quickly went through quiz after quiz, from the Beverly Cleary series, short stories, the E.B. White works, every children's novel you could think of. I didn't have a single Fail on that entire list for that semester, for I had passed every single reading exam. I had more than an A 100 in the class, for my extra credit came from all the reading tests that I took. Other students would take a peek at my Progress screen and ask me, "How on earth have you not failed a single book exam?!" I remember other students were desperately trying to finish a book quiz by Progress Report week in an attempt to salvage their grades. I was resting on my laurels, and even began to write quizzes for certain novels myself. Mrs. Bleker had bought about 10 new novels for the class, and asked some of the students (whose RC quizzes surpassed everyone else's) to read them and write up a quiz. I of course grabbed at the chance, and earned even more extra credit.

However, after a few months into the second semester, I had the highest grade in the class, and some kids began to take notice of it. A few asked me jokingly if I could "help them out" during their quizzes, meaning I could sit at the computer next to them pretending to take a quiz myself but using the Manual Alphabet to give them answers to a quiz on a book they never read. This way they could easily get into the system to score points for a book they never read. I began doing this for a couple kids, because I felt that it couldn't hurt to help their grades out. Therein was my first mistake, my first terrible judgment. I didn't realize what I was doing, and the thought of guilt never crossed my mind. I was only 12 years old, and I never even began to think how hurt Mrs. Bleker would be if she ever found out. I was making a joke of her quizzing system and I was helping kids cheat, even after she trusted me so much.

I remember I helped out about 5 kids score some points on some novels they never read. The book that ended my secret cheating system was Beverly Cleary's Ramona the Pest. I didn't even give it a second thought as I helped a fellow classmate score points for his quiz. He had never read it, but it didn't matter...I was there to supply him the answers and I secretly formed the letter choices A, B, C, or D in my lap discreetly so that the student could see but no one else could.

One day in April while I was reading a book during SSR, I felt someone grab my arm and lead me outside the door into the hallway. I was shocked and confused. As I saw Mrs. Bleker close the door behind us, I saw the kid's face (whom I helped cheat last week) streaming with tears, standing in the hallway. I was still so befuddled, and as Mrs. Bleker looked into my eyes, I saw tears in her eyes as well. It was the first time I had seen her without glasses; her eyes were red and puffy and brimming with tears. By this time, I was terrified.

"Gina, is it true that you've been taking reading quizzes for A______?" she asked me. Her eyes begged me to say no, to not let this sense of betrayal fall between us, to beg me not to tarnish the trust we had built in each other, but it was too late. She already knew the truth. As soon as the words left her lips, I broke down. I took off my own glasses and hung my head in shame as the hot tears spilled out of my eyes.

"Yes," I quietly blubbered.

Mrs. Bleker looked at me and nodded. "Okay," she said. Her next words made my heart drop to my toes, and I felt the blood rush from my face.

"You do realize that this is a serious form of cheating, and Parks has strict rules about classroom misconduct. I am going to have to contact both of your parents and refer you two to the principal's office. Your parents, the principal, and myself are going to have a conference about this, and this will go on your permanent records."

The words were too much for me. By then I felt my limbs were about to give out, and I was too ashamed to be in Mrs. Bleker's presence anymore. It wasn't about the fact that I got caught cheating, or that my parents are going to get a phone call, or that I will be sent to the principal's office, or that this was going on my permanent record. None of that mattered. It was about disappointing my favorite teacher of all time. It was the breaking of a vow. It was about Mrs. Bleker now breaking the trust we had spent all year to build. It was the betrayal. I could see it in her eyes, and that was too much for my 12 year old self to handle. It was the first time in my life I knew what betrayal felt like.

I couldn't look at her in the face for the next month and a half. I stopped going to see her during lunch and Nutrition, I became more quiet during class, stopped participating, and stopped raising my hand completely altogether. I was too ashamed to look at her in the face, and thought that Mrs. Bleker was going to hate me for life. It hurt too much knowing that I betrayed her trust. My relationship with Mrs. Bleker was over. It had put me through a type of Gethsemane, my own personal hell.

One day in May, after things cooled down a bit, I was by the bookcase looking for a new novel to read. I stopped taking books home shortly after the cheating incident, and wanted to take a new quiz. Luckily Mrs. Bleker didn't wipe out my entire log and make me start over, and for that I was grateful. I still kept my A although I didn't deserve it. The next few seconds surprised me.

"Hi Gina," I hear Mrs. Bleker say behind me.

I looked up, startled. "Hello," I answer meekly. I quickly turn my face back to the shelf.

"How are you doing?" she asked. This had been the first time we had any type of conversation in about 6 weeks.

"I'm doing all right," I mumbled. I kept concentrating on picking out a novel. I was going through the physical motions of attempting to pick something up but wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing. My mind became numb, as so did my hands.

"I noticed you haven't been doing any quizzes lately," Mrs. Bleker said. "You haven't done a single quiz in 6 weeks."

To that, I responded, "Well, I just haven't really been motivated to do any since, well, you know." That was the first time we had ever acknowledged the incident. I could feel the circus elephant in the room, and I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. It was awkward putting all of my problems onto the table and confronting them. At that age, I didn't know how to go about doing this, and it felt terribly out of place for me.

Mrs. Bleker looked at me, and said quietly, "I understand. I know your motivation has gone down, but I just want you to remember this: you can always pick yourself back up no matter what happens. You're so smart, and I still believe in you."

I was so stunned, I couldn't even force my lips to form the words "Thank You." It probably came out as another silent whisper. I couldn't believe it. Why would you still believe in me, after what I had done? After I had taken advantage of her kindness to me? After making a joke out of her system and muddying my integrity? Was Mrs. Bleker giving me another chance to redeem myself as a student? Although I had probably fallen into the depths of no longer being her favorite student, why did she still tell me the things I didn't deserve to hear? I was surprised she didn't kick me out of her class and registered me with a different English teacher. I was ridden with guilt all over again, just as I was starting to get over it.

Her words resonated within me for the next several years. The first time I got caught cheating in junior high was one of the most important lessons I had ever learned to date. It taught me not only to question my integrity but to remember that no matter how low we may feel in our lives about any incident or issue, it was never too late to learn from your mistakes, pick yourself back up, and rebuild yourself again. Life isn't over simply because we had a few hurdles we couldn't overcome. And that was what Mrs. Bleker taught me in 7th grade.

Oh, and that terrible parent-principal-teacher conference? It never happened. Shortly after being caught, I was dreading the meeting with the principal and my parents for several weeks, but to my surprise, no letter, no phone call home, no summoning of any kind had ever gone to my parents. They never found out. I never met with the principal. I doubt I even ended up with cheating marked on my permanent record. It was just between Mrs. Bleker and me, once again. Nothing was ever revealed. It was our final secret contract.

Mrs. Bleker didn't rat me out to the administration or my parents, I think she knew my own self-deprecating punishment to myself was enough. She knew I put myself through enough. Why she decided to save me and my grade, I will never know, nor understand.

But that's just the kind of teacher Mrs. Bleker really is.