First of all, I must admit that as an aspiring writer, it seems a bit cliché to be thanking my high school English teachers. It’s an overdone trope in movies and books—the impressionable youths inspired by their well-intentioned English teachers (a la Dead Poet’s Society, Perks of Being a Wallflower, To Sir With Love, etc.), but it is one that holds up in reality. Each of the three English teachers I had in high school influenced my life in different ways.
To my ninth-grade English teacher, thank you for welcoming me. I walked into my freshman year of high school not knowing a single person in the room. I’ll admit, when you told us that you were a licensed hypnotist I had some reservations, but by the middle of the first quarter, your words of encouragement helped me become more confident. It was in your class that I started to develop my sense of writing and figure out what I wanted to do with it. You encouraged us to think outside the box, to debate in class, to go above and beyond what was expected of us. I spent most of middle school being called a know-it-all and I was terrified of that happening again in high school, but with your guidance, I knew that was not something I should fear. You laughed with us and taught us a thing or two about guided meditation. You were exactly the nurturing influence I needed as a ninth-grader.
To my tenth-grade English teacher, I apologize for coming into your class as cockily as I did. I assumed that I knew everything about writing and that I’d never need to learn another thing. But after I got back my first essay covered in red marks and underlined phrases, I knew I still had a lot to learn. You shaped my writing and to this day, I still use the essay-writing skills you drilled into the class. You were sharp and not motherly at first, but eventually, you opened your arms to us. I learned how to structure an argument and seamless transitions. I learned about grammar. I learned about language elements that most people haven’t even heard of. Thank you for giving my writing direction. I’ve never struggled with essay-writing since your class.
To my eleventh-grade English teacher (also my ninth-grade English teacher), I came back into your class eagerly. You never left my high school experience, and for that I am thankful. I talked to you about my life, and you gave me advice not only as an mentor, but as a friend. Your guidance inspired me to be the person I am today — open-minded, eager to learn new things, eager to read and to teach, eager to just learn about everything. Thank you so much for helping me grow not only in my academics, but also as a person.
To my twelfth-grade English teacher, I had some reservations, I’ll admit. You slammed my favorite book series (Harry Potter) the first day of class, and there was no direct kindness initially. But that just made me want to prove myself. And I did that. That year was not so much about writing as it was about reading, and that was the year I started to shed my trashy, young adult, fantasy books for classics. You were the person who told me I could major in English and that I would be good at it. You told me I could be a professor. You never went easy on me, and I worked hard for that coveted nine on an AP English Lit essay and finally, at the end of the year, I got it. I was so proud of myself and you were proud of me. It was your words that convinced my parents to let me major in English. And for that, I thank you.
I don’t think I would be the person I am without the overwhelming influence of all three of my high-school English teachers. They helped me grow in every area of my life and to this day, I still think about their words of advice and still keep their words of caution in mind. Thank you so much. I hope to make you all proud.