Said goodbye to my best friend, sometimes there's no one left to tell you the truth (Days 159 & 160)

When I was in high school, I had this teacher Ms. McCaulley. She was really unique in a lot of ways. The way she handled her students was something I never really saw in another teacher.

For instance, if one of them directly was defying her requests to be quiet, or something, she'd simply tell them to "shut the hell up", and just the initial shock, I guess, of a teacher swearing, especially at a student really did work.

Everyone really liked her. It had a lot to do with her casual attitude, and approach to teaching. Most teachers seem to talk above you in a monotonous tone, but she always seemed to search for something a little different.

I have no idea how it happened, but I wound up having her as a teacher every single year. She was an English and Creative Writing teacher. I'll be honest, I have no idea why I always seemed to get into her classes, especially because in order to be in her Accelerated Programs in English, you pretty much had to be this whiz or something. Yet sure enough, I'd have her yearly.

She really did help mold whatever the hell it is I do now, honestly. I don't write one thing without ever thinking about her, but I really wish I was still in contact with her because I'd be interested to see if she even remembers me, and if so if she even would think twice about anything I wrote.

She always seemed pretty much like one of those teachers you'd like to hang out with outside of school. I had three teachers like that, ever. Mr. Jaworski, who taught history, and Mr. London who also taught English.

London, I always wanted to play basketball with him. When I used to ditch classes, he'd be cool with sitting in on his class and being a makeshift teachers assistant. He always knew what the reason was for me being in his class, and he always used to laugh about it. But towards the end of Senior year he started to express concern. Not necessarily for the class, because it was some bullshit throw away class I didn't even need, but just that I could be so careless and apathetic towards doing something I should be and simply not doing it because I didn't want too, or something.

Jaworski, that guy was rad as hell. He really made me appreciate history in a whole new light. I've had a ton of history teachers, maybe no more than the usual student I guess, but like he really loved his job. You could tell it was his passion. All his kids were grown and all, so he was kind of older, but not like old-old, and he really carried it well. He had this awesome beard, and always gave out really fun assignments.

He would take smaller checks during the year so he would get paid during summer vacation. Every year he'd go to some place like Egypt or Italy for the History of it. Every single day I went to his class, he'd have some story to tell, and he was always firey and passionate about history. I loved going to his class. It was the only class I never was late too, not even once.

Teachers don't get enough credit for anything they do. Some are bullshit, yeah, but then you get a few that are completely awesome teacher who always puts forth this entire effort, but so often they get overlooked because for years you've had these jaded teachers who just don;t give a shit about their students, so the students just give up.

But I got lucky. It's unfortunate those teachers like that, they hardly get the due they are deserved. Bigger paychecks and adulation all around, stuff like that.

I think about it pretty often, honestly.

-Until tomorrow.