I am a firm believer that your teachers can make or break your educational experience. I’ve had my fair share of good and bad, but two stick out in my mind more than any other.
The Bulldog – the thought of her still makes me shiver.
For some reason my 8th grade Language Arts teacher was out on a vendetta against me.
She was mean and ruthless.
Every time she got worked up she would start hollerin’ and her wrinkly old cheeks would waggle back and forth in slow motion.
When she singled you out, you knew you were in for it.
She knew exactly the right words to say to make me cry.
My Saving Grace – without her I wouldn’t have made it.
No one could speak to my heart better than that sweet little lady who taught creative writing.
She was kind and honest.
I spent more time in her office senior year than I did speaking to my “friends”.
In high school I was a bit of an outcast, but when I had long talks with her nothin' else mattered.
On my worst days she picked up, with just a smile.
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