My favorite teacher looking gorgeous, and then there’s me: trash.
My favorite teacher looking gorgeous, and then there’s me: trash.

My Last Favorite Teacher

May 23, 2018

As I write my last article for The Herald, I might be crying a little, or a bug got into my eye. You’ll never know. Senior year has been filled with lasts: My last hangout before college, chorus performance, Yearbook Day, AP exam, my last year in high school. Many people forget to enjoy these lasts. They want to escape the grasp of high school instead of taking advantage of being a kid for the last time. They moan and groan about how lame prom or that pep rally was, not realizing the memories being made. I can tell you that if I had not gone to prom, I would have missed the most significant memory I have with my friends.

Personally, my senior year has been filled with less-than-worthy memories. However, Newspaper and Yearbook have been my safe haven. The staff has helped me make it through every day, distracting me from life at home. It gave me a reason to keep coming to school, a responsibility. The staff has taught me that everyone has a purpose in life and everyone deserves to be happy. Although there has been some stressful deadlines and seemingly impossible articles to write, it was incomparable to the trouble at home.

When I walked into Mrs. Grieve’s Creative Writing class, I never expected her to become my role model. However, without the help and guidance of Mrs. Grieve, I honestly do not think I would be graduating. She has been and is my second mom, helping me with anything and everything. Mrs. Grieve has been more than a teacher; she’s taught me more than any required curriculum. She was able to teach me more than grammar and the Code of Ethics; she taught me to persevere and to have confidence in myself.

Next year, when I don’t have to walk through those doors again, I’m honestly going to be disappointed. Starting fresh, with no safe haven, my anxiety will skyrocket. Every year, I’ve been able to walk into Room 202 and know every face. In college, I will be surrounded by unfamiliar faces and names, completely vulnerable.

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