So This Is What It's Like to Fall in Love with Learning Again

When I showed up for opera class last weekend, the sight of my teacher filled me with so much visceral glee that I physically jumped for joy.

It had been a few weeks since our last class, after I'd taken a break for the holidays. I really didn't expect to feel that way showing up. But in the moment, I searched myself for where this feeling came from and realized it wasn't really opera that gave me that level of joy.

It was her: a teacher who's truly passionate and invested in my learning, who believes in me with a conviction that I've never felt for myself. To know that I have such a figure in my life, someone who sees something in me that I can't yet see, is both exhilarating and quietly transformative in ways I'm still discovering.

What makes this even more remarkable is who she is. My opera teacher is the most talented singer I've ever heard. To hear her demonstrate an aria for me is to enjoy a private concert from one of the world's greatest vocalists. And to have that vocalist somehow believe in my own talent...that feels like a dream.

She always meets me where I'm at. Sometimes I don't practice and I just show up with a sheepish apology. Sometimes I fail at every single line or vocal exercise she gives me. But she never gets impatient or lets me off the hook. Instead, she adjusts the lessons to help me reach the level I need to be at. This is the art of teaching that many people never master: the ability to see someone drowning and throw them a ladder instead of a lecture.

This was especially true for the entirety of December, when I stumbled through life as the walking dead. When you're that exhausted, it seeps into your voice in ways you can't hide. It flattens the resonance, dulls the color, and betrays every sleepless night.

Coming back to class this week, I was a little afraid she might dismiss me as her student because I sounded terrible and failed at everything last month. But she's still here, and she still actually believes in me. She met me as the walking dead and still held her unwavering faith.

Her belief changes everything about how I show up. I go to every class with genuine excitement, not obligation. I try my hardest because I don't want to let her down- not out of fear, but out of love for what we're building together. Even on the days when my voice cracks and fails, I leave feeling accomplished because she's shown me that showing up and trying is enough.

One of the most valuable things she's given me is an environment where I feel completely comfortable failing. Her kindness when I miss notes, when my voice cracks, when I can't get an exercise right- that's what allows me to take risks. And because I'm not afraid to fail in front of her, I learn faster. I try things I'd never attempt if I were worried about judgment. It’s a strange paradox: the more comfortable you make someone with failure, the faster they succeed.

I've been privileged in my adult life to learn from many teachers for many forms of knowledge. Outside of my professional mentors, two of these teachers changed my life by being deeply invested in my success in and outside of class: my Japanese teacher and my opera teacher.

My Japanese teacher was the one who taught me that learning can be fun without any stress. He was the first teacher to meet me where I'm at for every class, whether I studied my Japanese during the week or not. He made sure every class was filled with fun, knowledge, and laughter.

My opera teacher taught me how to actually command my (already naturally high-pitched) voice, to feel comfortable taking up space with sound instead of apologizing for it.

But what they really taught me was something that transcends technique or vocabulary or pitch: that being truly believed in is transformative.

It changes how you move through the world.

It changes what you think you're capable of.

It changes the story you tell yourself about who you are.

This is what education should be. The radical acceptance of where someone is, paired with the unwavering belief in where they can go.

I never had that growing up, because learning was always for grades back then, and grades were important to get into college. Learning was transactional, not devotional.

These days, because I'm not obligated to learn anything (outside of work) other than for my own joy and connections, this method of learning transforms from obligation into something almost sacred.

So in 2026, I'm gonna take this energy and these learnings and pay it forward. I know how it feels to have someone actually believe in you and be invested in your growth. And it's my goal this year to spread that to the people around me.

Because maybe that's the most revolutionary thing we can do- not to be the smartest or the most talented, but to be the person who believes in others so deeply that they start to believe in themselves.