As a kid, I always had a bad temper. I don’t know if I got if from my dad, who is easily irritated in heavy traffic, or if it just developed over time, but I have had it for as long as I can remember. That all changed in the eighth grade. It had been a normal year of school until my English teacher told my class something one day that has forever changed my view on life. This one sentence has had an immense impact on my life, however I’m not sure that Mr. Galloway, one of my most significant role models, realizes it. One thing's for sure, though, it is a philosophy that I continue to carry with me.

When my older brother, Frederick, had previously gone through middle school, he encountered his favorite teacher of all time who even inspired him to pursue a career in education. Needless to say, I was thrilled when I received this highly acclaimed man as my English teacher that year. We met on Meet the Teacher night and engaged in a small conversation. I’d seen his picture before in one of Frederick’s yearbooks, but I was still somewhat surprised by his attributes. He had an incredible stature, about 6’4, that required me to stretch my neck upwards whenever I spoke to him. Short, brown hair clung neatly to his head. A deep, booming voice vibrated through his lungs. Despite all of his intimidating features, Mr. Galloway was one of the gentlest people I have ever met. Genuine care could be detected in his voice. He had similar interests as me; both of us thoroughly enjoyed the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

I could not wait for school to start.

A week of anxious waiting passed until school was underway. His excellent class was entertaining and enjoyable. Every now and then my teacher and I would engage in a personal conversation, discussing anything from sports to the latest book we had finished. In spite of all of the wonderful teachers I had and the pleasure that I gained from school, I still held onto to a somewhat unhappy demeanor that was glaringly noticeable in PE one day. Every Friday in our PE class we would get free time to play whatever sport or game we wanted to, which in my case was basketball. Already I had spotted the rusted crate that stored the goods. Various basketballs, worn and in need of more air, nestled together at the bottom. I glanced at the shining hardwood court that was begging to be used. An afternoon light glowed through the windows, seemingly aimed at the new basketball goals that I so ardently desired to test. A musky scent of dust filled my nose as I slowly inhaled. My stomach tossed and turned with anticipation. The only catch was that we would not be able to indulge in our games before we finished some paper work focused on our latest unit. The coaches would give us the answers to the worksheet once everyone was quiet and when mostly everyone was finished. On this particular day, a few of my classmates decided to continuously talk and not do their work. This prevented the rest of our class from enjoying the last class of our day before the long-awaited weekend. Fury bubbled in my mind as I internally commanded them to, “Shut up and do something productive for once!” My veins throbbed as my blood pressure skyrocketed. Shaking with bitterness, I tightly clenched my fists.  PE has always been one of my favorite classes, and here were a few kids that would ruin it for me. Not being able to have free time bothered me for the rest of the evening and I did not completely get over it until the next morning. Now I just laugh at how ridiculous and trivial the whole situation was. Of all the things that could have offended me, I chose not being able to play basketball for 30 minutes in my eighth grade PE class.

My thought process changed soon after that day. I was, of course, in English class when it happened. It was a normal day, we had gone through the lesson and done our work with a some time to spare before the next bell rang. Mr. Galloway was talking to a few people while everyone else was talking to each other in a murmur. A fragrance of fresh cinnamon wafted through the air, the work of a new air freshener. The tall lamps, dimly light and sporadically placed throughout the room, encouraged a relaxing atmosphere. Movie, book, and history posters covered the walls. His room was truly unique. I had been barely listening to his discussion, until I heard one life changing sentence escape his mouth. “Don’t let things control you,” was all he said. At first this mundane phrase meant nothing to me. I thought about it some more and an epiphany swept over me. Don’t let things control me. I had been letting little events torment me and influence me to be miserable all throughout my life. Why? I didn’t have the answer. Mr. Galloway was an easygoing guy, always good humored and kind. He wasn’t easily angered, unless it was something worth getting upset over. I slowly realized that this is what made him thrive in life, what gave him the motivation to get up every morning. And I needed it to my improve my life as well.

In the following months, I could see the progress in the quality of my life. A similar event happened in gym, but this time I ignored the agitators. I reassured myself, “It’s not that bad.” Losing my cool over something that I had barely any power over simply was not worth it. I had learned to pick my battles and not exert myself on issues that won’t even matter a year later. School actually became fun in a way, enough so that I could deal with getting up at 6 A.M. every morning to catch the bus. Reasons to have a good time at school were all around me, I just had to focus on them.

Eventually the school year came to an end. The golden days in English were coming to an end. On the very last day, I wrote a note to Mr. Galloway explaining what he had done for me and we said our goodbyes. We will keep in touch and see each other again some day, I had thought. I was wrong.

News is always quick to spread, and a few months into this school year I received some. My eighth grade English teacher, intelligent and hard working, had been fired after an unfortunate action on his part. It hit me like a brick. I was in disbelief at first. There was absolutely no possible way that he could have been fired. Was I dreaming? Of course not. This numbness lingered in the back of my mind for almost a week until I knew it was true. Sorrow flowed through my mind. But I accepted it. Sorrow soon changed to pity, and pity soon changed to forgiveness. Many people were angry at him or felt that he had betrayed their trust. All because one horrible decision he made. I couldn’t be mad at Mr. Galloway. For that one notorious mistake he made I can list a hundred praiseworthy things he had contributed to the lives of everyone around him. He did lose some of my respect, but he had still taught me so much about life and literature. My mind was occupied by the echoes of his words. “Don’t let things control you.”

I still admire Mr. Galloway. If anything, his blunder proved to me that everyone is human and susceptible to errors. I doubt I’ll ever see him again, but I won’t forget the impact he had on me. The one short, yet complex, sentence he spoke continues to positively alter my way of thinking. For every negative, there is a positive. It is foolish to get caught up in the little things of life. By not letting these things control me, I have evolved into a calmer, more relaxed person.