I think all of us could play the teacher because we all grew up

Hear the thoughtful words of Ryan Eggold: “I think all of us could play the teacher because we all grew up with teachers. It’s just kind of this peeking-over-the-shoulder presence that we’ve all grown up knowing.” Though spoken in simplicity, these words reveal a deep truth about memory, authority, and the shaping power of those who guide us. For the figure of the teacher is not merely one person in a classroom, but a presence woven into the fabric of every life—a guiding shadow that follows us, shaping how we think, how we question, and how we act.

The heart of this saying lies in the universality of the teacher. Not all men become rulers, not all women become healers, not all children grow into artists or warriors—but all of us have known teachers. They are the guardians of childhood, the voices that stand at the beginning of our journeys, pointing out the path, correcting our steps, asking us to look closer, to try harder, to dare more. Their presence is so constant, so formative, that even years later, we carry their echoes within us. This is why Eggold says any of us could "play" the role—because deep within, we already know the essence of it.

To describe it as a “peeking-over-the-shoulder presence” is to capture the intimate and enduring nature of their influence. The teacher is not only before us in the classroom but within us when we work, study, or face decisions. We remember the raised eyebrow at our laziness, the praise at our effort, the correction of our mistakes. In this way, their guidance outlives the moment. Even when they are absent, their presence remains. It is as though they become part of the conscience, a gentle voice asking: “Can you do better? Have you tried enough? What have you learned?”

History provides its witnesses to this truth. Consider Alexander the Great, pupil of Aristotle. Though he strode across continents as conqueror, he carried always the voice of his teacher, who instilled in him the hunger for knowledge and the sense of philosophy that tempered ambition with wisdom. Or think of Confucius, who did not build empires with armies, but with disciples. Long after his death, his presence remained, peeking over the shoulder of rulers, scholars, and ordinary people, guiding them with the weight of his teaching. The teacher lives on in the lives of students, long after the classroom is gone.

Yet Eggold’s words also remind us of a paradox: though all of us know the teacher, we too can become them. For when we guide a friend, when we mentor a child, when we share wisdom with a stranger, we take on that same presence. The role of teacher is not confined to schools; it is the role of every human being who passes knowledge to another. In this sense, the teacher is immortal, for each generation passes down its lessons, becoming for the next that same peeking shadow, that same voice of guidance.

The lesson, then, is this: do not underestimate the power of the teacher’s presence, whether in your memory or in your own actions. Cherish the ones who shaped you, for their presence has given you strength. And recognize that you, too, bear the responsibility of teaching. You may not stand before a classroom, but with your words, your example, your guidance, you shape others. You are the living memory of your own teachers, carried forward into the lives of those who look up to you.

Practical steps follow: honor your teachers by living the lessons they instilled; remember them with gratitude, and when possible, thank them. In your own life, seek to be a teacher in small ways—show patience, share wisdom, correct gently, inspire others to see beyond themselves. Carry forward the “peeking-over-the-shoulder presence,” not as a burden, but as a gift, ensuring that the chain of guidance is never broken.

Remember always: the figure of the teacher belongs to us all. We have all known it; we can all embody it. It is the shadow that makes us stand taller, the voice that calls us to our best selves, the memory that guides us long after the classroom is closed. To honor the teacher is to honor life itself, for in teaching, humanity ensures that no wisdom is lost and no soul is left unguided.