For Teacher Appreciation Day, and I spent some time walking back through the years, ahem…decades, to think about some of my earliest teachers.
Thank you, Mrs. E., you were so kind and let us read to our own level.
Thank you, Mrs. S., for all your patience with a bunch of rowdy fifth-graders while you were pregnant. What made you come back to teach us after you had the baby, I’ll never understand, but then, that’s why you’re a teacher and I’m not.
Thank you, Mrs. R., for a wonderful sixth-grade. I’m sorry your room was the closest one to band class so you had no choice but to listen during your one hour a day without us.
Thank you, Mr. K., for enlightening us eighth-graders during the poetry block by having us study song lyrics instead of “the classics.”
Thank you, Mr. L., for putting your life on the line each summer teaching teens how to drive. Parents really got a kick of how you’d act like you were praying whenever they drove past the passenger side of the student-driver car.
Thank you, Mrs. W., for the semester of English grammar—most used class to date.
Thank you, Mr. K., for taking the job of lead-chaperone for the trip to France and hovering over us while we tried to speak to the locals so we’d have the confidence to try. You were so enthralled by the history of each place, and now I wish I’d paid more attention…especially in Notre Dame.
Thanks to the junior/senior-level teachers who realized I had an unusual college goal and allowed me to work on my own syllabus to get me there.
It’s interesting that in my mid-life, I can recall the names of those teachers who had a profound influence on me. Not many people can boast of something like that. But then, that’s how teachers are, the quiet professionals who mold the future of our world.