The Teacher...

I have just read Tyler's blog post that is about cursive writing and oppressive teachers. I started to comment, but then had an epiphany and had to write a blog in response to the post.

As I started to think back on my teachers, I realized something weird and disturbing. I don't know if I was just lucky, or if I was just that nerdy. I loved my teachers. Well, not Mr. Stoyak. But I have had crush after crush on my teachers.

1st grade -- Mrs. Sparks would have us line up at the door everyday before we went home. On the way out the door she would whisper in each child's ear something encouraging, give us a hug, and have us kiss her on the check. I was in love. It broke my heart in 2nd grade to see those stupid 1st graders lining up at the door.

3rd-5th -- Mrs. Kelly was our music teacher. I was not in choir because I enjoyed singing "Under the Sea." She was the first person to teach me to sit quietly while the music of great composers washed over me. She would ruffle my hair when I did something right. Then I moved to Plano and my music teacher was a hag who made us listen to "Purple People Eater."

High School -- Mrs. Perini was our media arts teacher. She was hot, wore ripped jeans to school, and was a lot of fun. She helped with the senior play and in between performances the cast was partying and Mrs. Perini danced on top of one of the desks. Wow!

High School -- Mrs. Murray. Jeff and I signed up for Term Paper class. She would try to get the boys in the class to work harder by being flirtaceous and cute. I was in love, but still didn't work very hard because the class was easy.

College -- Holly (Kurka) Zehr. She made me reconsider poetry. She was my IDS section leader. She could give me a "C" on my paper, but write such nice things in the margin I didn't mind the poor grade. If she had not become Mrs. Zehr I would have stayed in college longer.

I miss school. What is wrong with me?