I remember flipping through my course catalog during my junior year of high school and seeing the class title "Pop Culture". Was this too good to be true? A class that talked about such things that you used to be yelled at for talking about during other classes? Surely there was a catch. To my great relief, there was no catch. I quickly filled out my request form to be in the pop culture class for my senior year.

That was the first time I was actually excited about a class in school.

Dear Diaz, (calling you Mr. Diaz sounds way too formal)

You were one of the first teachers I had my senior year that I became comfortable with calling by just their last name. This was sort of revolutionary for me, calling a teacher by their actual name. On what planet? From the first day of class, you made it known that you weren't like the other teachers. I could tell.

You had such a passion for everything you taught even if no one else shared that passion with you. It was like you wanted to learn everything with us and wanted to experience it right along with your students. I loved how much of a relief it was to go to your class. After a long day of feeling restricted in my classrooms and having fake conversations with other teachers, I felt so welcome walking into your classroom.

For some reason, I felt so known and accepted every time I would come to your desk with a weird new video I found on Facebook or an update on my favorite show, Gilmore Girls. There weren't a lot of teachers that I felt accepted me as an actual person so I appreciated that you did. You did that for so many others as well.

You taught me about music, TV shows and social media. You also taught me about racism, prejudice and culture. You listened to tragic stories about my own experience with being the minority in some situations and you told your own story. This class was the first class where I was excited to learn. I was excited to read the articles that had so much meaning and relevance in the current state of our society. I took these conversations and I talked about them with others.

You were a friend to your students, but you also made sure they respected you because you knew how important it was to respect others. I remember at least every two weeks you would remind the class that "senioritis" may be real, but that doesn't mean you can slack off. You were so passionate about seeing your students succeed, even if that meant doing everything in your power to help them. So many students recognized this drive in you and it changed them. It changed the way they viewed school and it changed the way they viewed learning.

So Diaz, I hope you still are getting the same appreciation from your students now that you did when I was in your class a whopping two years ago (what the heck). I hope you truly know how much of a difference you make in kid's lives everyday just by being you. Thanks for making my senior of high school my favorite year. Never loose your passion for learning, investing and creating world changers.

All my love, Christina.