I loved New York City public schools

Wait let me clarify.

I hated the New York City public school SYSTEM. I hated the regents exams they made us take every year for nine years. I'm pretty sure I slouch because I had to take these tests since I was in third grade. I hated the core curriculum that left out essentials in my learning that still affects me today. I hated that my schools were underfunded. I hated that my teachers were being laid off.

But what I mean by loving the New York City public school is that I love the teachers that worked there; the teachers that fostered me to be where I am today. I think we always forget to thank our teachers for being a crucial part of our development. So here I am now to thank my New York City public school teachers for being amazing.

Dear Ms. Honeyman

You were my first-grade teacher back when I first set foot in America. I was scared when I stepped into your classroom because the only words I knew in English was "Happy" and "Birthday." I didn't even know how to spell my name so I begged my mom to write it for me on my left forearm. I didn't know how to say "bathroom" so every day I fidgetted in my seat, waiting for the moment I can sprint home. I never talked. I never smiled.

But you did.

Whenever I made shy eye-contact with you, you always smiled at me. You were able to pick out my distress from across the classroom and come running my way. You sat next to me during sing-along time so that I can hear the words clearly. You gave me cassettes of songs so that I can play them at home. So that I can mimic the sounds you make and feel like I belong.

Thank you, Ms. Honeyman for teaching me not only the alphabet but also the warmth of teachers. Thank you for teaching me that there are people that care for me. Thank you for being my first teacher.

Dear Mrs. Conklin and Ms. Minassian

I don't even know where to start. You have impacted my life so much that I can't say "thank you" enough. But I will try.

Thank you for introducing me to the world of reading. Our read aloud times were unforgettable. I still reread Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane and recall the adventures back in fourth and fifth grade. I remember back to Operation Explore and the scary story of "Three-Fingered Willy." I remember back to the time when you weren't afraid of teaching us the truth. You never once said, "it'll make sense when you're older." No. You explained the truth to me and let me mature without boundaries. You talked to me like a friend rather than a student and that made all the difference.

Thank you for Mr. Farrell who left in me a deep love for computers and technology. Thank you for Mr. Banham who fostered a love for science with his cart of science and cockroaches. Thank you for Ms. Schubert who taught me the basics of science that I could not survive without.

Thank you for everything you do right now and everything you did for me 8 years ago. Thank you for continuing to teach so that other students can have the experience I had. Thank you for not giving up.

Dear Mr. Dunbar

I have absolutely no idea how you dealt with a classroom full of middle schoolers but you did it well. Looking back, I can't believe you were only 23 when you became my homeroom teacher. Middle school was a tough time for me but you made it possible to survive. You gave me the resources to cope with change and helped me through my first blast of reality.

Thank you for taking all the harsh words us middle schoolers threw around like sand. We didn't know better at the time but words hurt a lot. They hurt like salt being rubbed into the wounds we didn't know we had. Thank you for teaching us that words can also be beautiful. You bought books with your own money to fill up the cubbies surrounding our classroom. You pulled strings so I can read books beyond my level but intrigued me. You made me realize that I love writing. I love how phrases can pull on heartstrings or make palms sweat with anxiety. Thank you for the creative stories you made us tell, the random English assignments that you thought were fun, and even the end of the year word story we got to compile together. Thank you because at the time they were a hassle, but today I treasure the stories I told as an eighth grader. Thank you for fostering a friendship with the children that we were. Thank you for raising us up to be the adult we are today.

Dear Mr. McNickle

By the time I got to your class, I thought that I learned everything I can from school. It was junior year and all that was left was a mountain of paperwork for college. But I was missing one thing that I never thought about: Fun. All throughout my 11 years of public school education, I never thought that class was fun. Class was something I had to go to and sometimes enjoyed because of my friends. I never looked forward to going to class until I was in yours.

I want to thank you for making me realize that school is something that I actually enjoyed. I enjoyed it so much that I stayed after school during SGI to talk to you. Whether it was about Doctor Who, psychology, or test grades, you were always there to make jokes with us. I want to thank you for being friends with us. Thank you for letting us annoy you while you were grading or teaching freshmen. Before you, I avoided talking to teachers but now I go to Office Hours with teaching fellows. Thank you for letting me realize that teachers are friends.

I never realized how precious the relationships I had were until I started college. I attributed the past with hardships and struggling. I forgot about the lights that guided me through the darkness every step I took. I came as an immigrant to this country and through the guidance of my teachers, I became a Harvard student. Public school is a difficult place to be as a student but it is especially difficult as a teacher. But please know that what you are doing is worth it.

Please know that you are loved by hundreds of your graduates. Please know that you are the highlight of some student's day. Please continue to be the greatest people I have ever known.

Thank you.