To the teachers that had the biggest effect on my life. I've kept my feelings in for a very long time and have finally found the courage to tell you what you have done for me.
To the teacher that wasn't "my babysitter",
you were able to sleep every night soundly, proud of ourself day in and day out. For years after I had to I have to deal with that year in my head over and over and over again. You saw what was happening and did nothing. You let him hurt me and humiliate me because he benefitted you and I didn't. Because of you I went through months of torture and abuse while you sat there on your pedestal looking down on everyone with that smirk of yours. I went home crying while you went home smiling. I begged my parents to stay home so I did't have to sit in your classroom with him. You were supposed to protect me, you were supposed to teach me to be a better person and make a difference in the world. Instead what I learned from you was selfishness, emptiness, and plain bitchyness. I went through 7 years of pain because of this, I wasn't the real me because of this, and I was never able to tell you how i really felt.
Even today you still sit there on your pedestal mighty as ever even though you know what you did. you didn't stop him when I needed you to. You didn't get me the help I needed. Now I am a shell of the person I was. I will never fully be the girl I was before you let this happen. When I came to you and called out for you help you turned me away and said you weren't a babysitter, that you weren't my babysitter specifically. You made me stand out. You made me the weak link. You made me bad guy in my eyes.
I will never get over the fact you didn't do your job as a teacher and help me when I was in need. I will never be able to approach a teacher confidently because of what you did. Why weren't you there when I needed you? Why was he more important than me even after what he did to me? For years I didn't think I was good enough for anyone.
Even though I will never get to say any of this to your face I wanted the world to know how you treated me after he touched me, after he bullied me, after he tortured me for months. I want every one to know you did nothing to protect me or punish him for the wrongs he had done. You and him may never remember what happened but I will for the rest of my life.
To the teacher who was my savior,
You helped me laugh, you taught me to love others no matter what, and most of all you saw the change and stood by me even though I was no longer your student. You were there to help prep for my year of hell, you helped make me stronger. You weren't just my teacher you were my mentor, protector, and friend. You were there to stand up for me when nobody would. You protected me in the best way you could even long after this had happened.
Even now 10 years later you are still in my life teaching me new things every time I see. Every time I think of you I think of laughter, compassion, and freedom. You helped me be myself no matter what other thought and to be selfless. You have affected my life in the best way possible, you taught me to be string woman, and to fight or myself and to fight for what I believe in. I'm just sad I never got to thank you for it in person.
I thank you for everything you have done for me, putting your job on the line to protect me and not let me become the victim and liar everyone at that school wanted to see me as. I thank you for your compassion and with that I learned to be compassionate to others. You are most selfless person I have ever met and I am proud to have been your student. I'm so happy that other students can learn from you and you get to help shape the lives of students for the better. You are the teacher everyone needs in their life.
Without you I don't know how that year would have gone. I don't how much I would have been able to handle, how I would have been the years after that. I don't think I would be myself if I hadn't have you as a part of my life. I thank you for everything you have done for me because without even knowing it you were my savior.
