Thursday, 26 June 2008

To Sir or Miss with love....


Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone,
But in my mind,
I know they will still live on and on,
But how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume?
It isn't easy, but I'll try...
(Lulu)

It is only fitting to dedicate this blog to teachers, what with today & tomorrow being the last day of school for most students. For some, it means the last step in their formal education. And though there's so much to say about the last day of school, I think it's most important to recognize all the hard work that our educators put into the school year. What better way to do this that to write them a letter. I'll dedicate this letter to all my teachers...so many to mention....but here are a few: Ms. Fitalli (who taught me to speak English!), Ms. Docherty (who taught me that individuality is cool), Ms. Paul (who taught me perseverance), Mrs. Murphy (who taught me about compassion and kindness and instilled in me a love of literature), and all the other teachers who helped to shape me into who I am to day. Here's my letter to you:

Dear Teachers,

I am taking this opportunity to thank you for all that you've done for me. In the past, I came to you when I fell off a snowbank & ended up with a bleeding nose. I came to you when I pretended that my family was moving to Italy so that you'd throw me a class party. I came to you later to confess that I wasn't going to Italy & to apologize for making you throw me a class party. I came to you to let you know that I thought you were being hard on me in class. I sat in detention with you when you told me that I was being disruptive. I came to you to show you my latest attempt at creative writing. And each and every time, you gave me your full attention. Thank you.

I'm not sure you realize what an impact you've had on my life. I don't know if it's the same for everyone, but I remember you. I remember you well. I can name all your names, though not your given name. Teachers aren't supposed to have a given name. Even though you insist, twenty years later, that I should call you Ralph, I simply cannot.

Sometimes, I even remember the fragrance you wore... If I'm walking by someone or something & I smell a certain scent, it'll take me back to your classroom. That's how much a part of my life you are.

I knew I could depend on you. Each and everyday, I'd head over to your classroom, and there you'd be - rain or shine. And, being only human, there was the odd day when you wouldn't be there. The class would whoop & clap at the thought of having a poor ol' supply teacher. I feigned delight as well, but it was unsettling not having you there. In other words, I knew I could count on you.

You taught me respect by showing me respect. One of you really went the extra mile by coming to my house to tutor me when I had been ill & hospitalized. You were my eighth grade teacher, and I was in high school. Because I had missed nearly a month of class, I was failing math. When you'd heard though the grapevine that I hadn't been well, you contacted me & my family, offering your help. You did this on your own time - taking time away from your family twice a week until you knew I'd pass my subject and you refused any sort of payment. Wow! You were so proud of me when I passed that class. At the time, I didn't understand why you were making such a big deal. I see now that it gave you a sense of pride and accomplishment. I'm grateful for this. Thank you so much, Mrs. Murphy. I will never forget you.

So, dear teacher, I'm so glad we met. I hope you accept my thanks and sincere gratitude. You're part of a special bunch of people... often berated, but not always appreciated. Ah, but I appreciate you. I really do. And I hope you have a good summer off...you deserve it.

Much love & respect,

Stephanie

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