When I think of an analogy between me and Ms. Davis, I think of Cory and Mr. Feeny from "Boy Meets World." Their relationship was fundamentally comedic and yet often so valuable to Cory’s adolescence and future. The interactions between Cory and a simple history-teacher-turned-principal shaped him into the man he became in the later seasons of the show.

I remember when I entered high school, I was gravely disappointed that “Boy Meets World” did not give a very accurate depiction of what high school life would look like. There were no crazy adventures or entangled love stories or teachers that I felt I had truly connected to on a personal level — the last one hit me the hardest. My entire life I’d been molded into thinking this was how my high school life was going to be like, only to find out that Disney Channel lied.

And then I met Ms. Davis.

It’s hard to even articulate what she did for me, but I think the easiest way to put it is that she was there. Sometimes, the simplest phrasings are the most powerful. She made herself available
when I was dealing with things that I didn’t really believe anyone else could possibly understand. Like growing up feeling unloved because of my weight, my relentless need to seek out approval from the relationships in my life, or even how growing up black in a circle of white culture doesn’t bode well in the long run. She made me feel safe being vulnerable, and like she cared. She made me feel seen and for the first time in what I realized was an incredibly long time, I felt like Celeste. Not just a ghost walking around in a Celeste-shaped body, but a person. With feelings and experiences that mattered. That someone cared enough to listen to.

Growing up I never had a role model that looked like me and I thought I never would. And then I heard that there was a black female teacher who went to an Ivy League school that for some reason unbeknownst to me was working in North Brunswick Township High School. Oftentimes, people of my demographic forget that our goals are not intangible or out of reach. I started
to let that weigh me down and prevent me from being the best student possible, but Ms. Davis, just by being herself, gave me hope. The real reason we connect is that we allow ourselves to be each other in our rawest and most vulnerable forms. Even if I’m just a kid. Or a student. And she’s probably like 500 years older than me or something. She just makes me feel like Celeste. And deep in my soul, I know I make her feel like Tyler.

We are not Cory and Mr. Feeny. We are Celeste and Ms. Davis. And there is an oddly comforting feeling in that cognizance.

Ms. Davis once told me that the reason she started working at North Brunswick was because of the diversity and that she wanted to be the role model to black students that she never had. I hope it makes her happy that she can count at least one.