I’ve never been much of a writer. I didn’t enjoy writing, in school or on my own. I could be doing other things than writing. Writing just didn’t strike me as something very fun. Of course, I’ve never particularly loved English either. Not that my teachers weren’t really good, they just never really got me to love the subject.
That, however, was before seventh grade.
Therefor, that was before my teacher was Mrs. Schoch.
Mrs. Schoch, honestly, had me into the subject from the second month of school, which was better than anyone else. I was still getting used to all the seventh grade classes. I was super happy to have her as a teacher; she was funny, nice, and could handle my rowdy class.
Today is Mrs. Schoch’s birthday, and this blog post is for her.
Mrs. Schoch is fantastic. She has good lessons and knows how we want to learn. She isn’t very strict, she wants respect, and deserves it. She has reasonable expectations for us: nothing too hard but everything is doable. She has fun lessons that she doesn’t have to do, like Phantom of the Opera and Les Misérables.
I was very worried, and prepared, for English not to be my favorite class, because Mrs. Schoch said she was a part-time teacher. That she left after our period. I was worried she’d be tired during our class, and that she wouldn’t want to do much with us at all. That she’d barely care. However, I was very quickly proven wrong. She liked our class just as much as she liked all her others (even though we can be quite loud and talkative).
Mrs. Schoch, I just want to say thank you for everything. You’re a great teacher that got me interested in something I never thought I’d be interested in. You taught me more about writing than I ever have learned before. You got me interested in a new musical that I LOVE. You’ve taught me about English and life, and I thank you for that.
Mrs. Schoch, don’t ever stop doing what you’re doing. You’re great at it and it’s fantastic. Thank you so much for being my teacher and believing in me throughout this year. You’re my favorite teacher. When I go onto eighth grade, I won’t have you anymore, and that’ll be really sad. I love you as a teacher and I wish I could have you for every year on.