It was just a normal Friday afternoon towards the end of school. My class was abnormally jittery and talkative; actually, we were normally like that, but this day was special. We were exactly two weeks away from graduating eighth grade. To say that spirits were high would be an understatement. And when you add in that it was the end of the week, we were pretty much a lost cause. Our favorite teacher, Mrs. Farris, was lucky enough to have us for seventh period. She was trying to settle us down, and not having much luck at it, but she wasn’t angry, she was having as much fun as we were.

“Okay guys, we’re going to have somewhat of a quiet time so you can write in your journals.” We all burst out laughing at that. “Make your entries mean something,” she said, “if all else fails, write what’s on your mind.” I was having trouble coming up with something to write, but then an idea struck me. I took a deep breath and the words started flowing out of me onto the paper…


Hey Mrs. Farris! I really hope you have good time to read this, because it will definitely be different from what I usually write. I just wanted to thank you for these past three years as our teacher. You really have taught us how to be ourselves and show our individuality yet still work as a team. You were always there to help us learn from our mistakes, whether it a science equation, or something bigger.

And when you were teaching, you had our whole attention. There was nothing cooler than what you taught that day. Dead frogs were no longer gross; they were a fun excuse to use sharp pointy things. When you brought out the dirty pond water, even the girliest of girls wanted to look at it under a microscope. And even reading was interesting. Edgar Allan Poe actually made sense. Classic plays written by dead people were no longer boring. And everyone had at least one favorite quote by Mark Twain that we would always remember.
Science and Reading became our favorite classes of the day. You were one of the only teachers who asked us for our opinion on what we wanted to learn, then went with it. Even when we were annoying little sixth graders, you saw us for the class we would become, and you never gave up on us. We came to you for help on math problems, friend advice, and for simply a good laugh. You became a good friend, someone we could rely on. You were very influential in our decisions, but you never forced your opinion. You saw us grow in both mind and body, cheered us on when we could finally reach the top of the ceiling by jumping, and were just as shocked as we were when we finally said something intelligent for the first time. And I just want you to know that we'll all miss you in high school. Even if we are just down the hall. So we really hope your classroom door will be open for us when we want to talk.


So for the last time: xoxo, Brooke Lynn