Friday, June 12, 2009

And the madness begins...

with SUMMER! it's finally here. and, to be honest, I am more motivated now to do school work than I have been in an extremely vast period of time. it's kind of ironic...I've finished out my junior year. reputed as the "most difficult year of high school," and it's really flown by. but thank HEAVENS, for that! I've checked my grades on the more often evil than helpful "schoolloop" and I have maintained my GPA! WOO! My parentals shall be very pleased. I honestly canNOT believe I'll be a senior next year. It freaks me out just a tid bit. I was always prepared for it, talking about how I couldn't wait for my turn...and now it's here, and I'm not sure what to do with myself. Everyone always told me that it would come faster than I expected it to, but this went by faster than anyone could have ever mentally prepared me for. I have to apply for colleges, scholarships, and anything else humanly possible to make it easiest for my family to get me through the ever-so expensive senior year/transition to college.
I had to watch one of the greatest teachers I've ever had slowly tear down the inspirational decor of her room like a tooth, slowly decaying from the inside out. it hurts on the inside, even though it doesn't look like anything is wrong from its appearance. She really was one of the best. she pushed us all to work hard not for our GPA's, our parents' or families' expectations, or even for her reputation, but for ourselves. one of the few teachers I've met that turned the kid in the back corner with an iPod in their ear, hunched over doodling on their desk, into one of the most attentive, involved, and front row-sitting students. but it's all about motivation. She was so great at making learning fun (as cheesy as it may sound). I looked forward to that class each day and I always knew I could count on a superb lesson, lecture, or just a good ole class discussion full of interesting insight from fellow students that intrigued the minds of all of us who paid attention. She really knew how to stimulate our brains and get us involved with what we were learning and why we were learning it...how to use it. She didn't just teach us stuff because she was getting paid to, or because it was part of the curriculum, or even to pass the AP test. I believe she taught us because she really wanted to share her knowledge with us and she loved seeing the light bulb go off in someone's head. She loved to see us succeed. And that's what made her such a great teacher. Some teachers lose the heart to care, to try...in turn, they lose powerful respect and authority from students that could be helping them; the students become lethargic and begin to fail a class. I'm not blaming the teachers for any student who is flunking. I'm saying that in come cases, it is the teacher's fault that the students don't absorb the information that could possibly expose to them a future career path, or goal in life.
This teacher, however, was not one of the bad apples. She received the best response from students of all areas of life, social status, social class, and even age. If you knew who she was and had her as a teacher, you were lucky. Not only did she prepare me for the AP test, but she did a darn good job making it one of the best courses I've ever taken. Just today, as we were going over some of our final projects, a kid that, to the average adult eye, just looking at him, you wouldn't expect too much greatness or emotion. Nothing but a body roaming around high school because he's got nothing better to do. He'll never make anything of himself (exaggerated.), got up to read his writing piece to the class. He was the last one. As he got up there and read it aloud, everyone knew he wrote his paper about our beloved teacher. And after class, I spoke with him as he said, with tears welling up, "I had to finish it. I was about to start crying." he slowly and as non-chalantly as possible, caught the tears on his fingers before they could leave a moist trail of sadness as a map of his true emotions. A line formed for pictures with the teacher and I asked him if he wanted me to take a picture of him with our teacher. He simply replied, "No, I'm not taking a picture. I just want a hug." As he continued to catch the premature tears from just under his eyes, I rubbed his shoulder and told him to go ahead of me. I could tell he wouldn't last much longer in the same room without breaking down. He gave and received a quick, yet meaningful and sincere hug. Just as sincere each comment on each essay was marked, just as meaningful as each one of her students was to her. I'll never forget the first day of school. I came home and de-briefed my mother on what would be my schedule for the upcoming year.
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"Oh...and Ms. ---- was SO. MEAN. She was yelling at the people who came in late! They didn't even know where they were going yet, I mean...come one, it's the first day of school! She was soooo strict and I just KNOW, I'm going to hate that class. I don't know how she could be so rude to people she doesn't even know. I wonder if I can transfer into the other teacher's class..."
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And now, I can see that she had to set an authoritative first impression. Without that first day of school, if she had shown us her fun side and her funNY side, we would have had no respect for her and taken advantage of what we knew she could get side-tracked on. But I appreciate what she did...now. Now that it's too late to say thank you and run back into her classroom and wave goodbye one more time. Now that she's going back to grad school; because she's an achiever. Now that she's setting an example for what she knows we're capable of. Now that she's my role model.

It's not that we would have necessarily gone back into your classroom and visited you everyday next year, but there is a certain comfort of familiarity. Knowing you're there and being sure that you could see them if you wanted to. But now that hope is vanishing...
Thank you, Ms. ----. We'll all miss you...terribly.

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