Hi there, Shankar here. We're about to celebrate Thanksgiving in the US and we thought we'd

mark the moment with a question. Who are you most grateful for? Maybe it's a family

member or a dear friend or maybe it's a stranger who helped you in a moment of crisis.

Our sister podcast, My Unsung Hero, is all about stories of people like this. Thanksgiving

happens once a year. Please subscribe to My Unsung Hero so you can feel the warm glow

of Thanksgiving every week of the year.

Today's story comes from Tony Ludlow. When Tony was in eighth grade at a school in

Fort Smith, Arkansas, he had an English teacher named Cecil Holman. She was the first black

woman he had ever had as a teacher. In fact, she was the first black woman with whom he'd

ever had a conversation. She left such an impression on him that he still vividly remembers

what she looked like.

She was immaculately dressed and she wore kind of large floral print dresses, everything

about her said class and dignity and she had a particular perfume that she wore that

just seemed to fit. That spring, she began to teach the class about poetry.

And I started to tank. I hated it. His grades were falling. So Mrs. Holman told him he had

to stay after school to get extra help. And I didn't like Mrs. Holman. I hated her for

keeping me from being able to play sports. And so I was angry at her. Well, one day I

said I was just I was just fed up. And I said, Mrs. Holman, I don't relate to any of this

stuff. Poetry stuff like girls would write it's about daffodils and butterflies and stuff

like that, unicorns. I don't relate to any of this stuff. And I'm sure that none of the

male members of my family have any use for poetry.

So the next day I had to go back to her class again and she handed me a book. And she said,

...