A few short months ago, I made it official and declared physical education as my major. As the excitement on my face seemed unending, the reactions I received from family, friends and peers were rather disappointing.

"A gym teacher, really?"

"Your parents are paying tons of money for you to go to college to become nothing less than a gym teacher?"

And I can't forget my personal favorite:

"Oh, I didn't even know you had to go to school for that job."

All the comments kept me feeling somewhat like a failure; I worried that I made a huge mistake. I kept my eye on the prize and reminded myself why this was the best job in the world for me.

My first semester freshman year, I was placed in an education course called "Intro to Education." At this point, I was still unsure of what career path I hoped to pursue, but decided to take a variety of courses that would help me choose.

During this education class, we were required to read the book, "Molder of Dreams." Reading the syllabus and seeing that we were required to read this text, I thought, "Yeah right! This book looks nearly a hundred years old! I'll just Google the summary and I should be fine." After a couple class sessions and two failed quizzes later, I decided it was time to finally stop being lazy and read the text after all. Surprisingly enough, that was one of the best decisions I have made in college thus far and it led me to where I am today.

"Molder of Dreams" speaks of a young man named Guy Doud who was greatly influenced by several teachers he had as a child. Guy refers to these teachers as his "Molder of Dreams." The individuals not only helped shape him as a person but also inspired him to become a teacher and have an influence on other students' lives just as his teachers did on his life.

After reading this story, I began to reflect back on my own educational career and think about the teachers I would consider my own personal "Molders." Several wonderful teachers crossed my mind, but one in particular stuck out to me the most.

My band director from high school, Mr. Elliott was definitely one of a kind. Countless times he would be the first to jump down my throat and chew me out during class, but also the first to give me a high-five as if nothing had ever happened.

He was the type of teacher who was strict and structured. However, everyone loved him due to his infectious personality, comical sense of humor, great understanding of teenagers and lastly, his wide but strange vocabulary that included silly words such as "dunderheads."

Upon class every day, I always received a "What's up, how's it going?" or "Hey! How was the softball game last night?"

He was the type of teacher who made you feel important—the type of teacher who cared for each student individually and was always open to listen when you needed to talk. Most important, he was the type of teacher who taught you lessons. Not school lessons. Not "don't ever do this again" lessons. Life lessons.

Countless times would I hear him speak the phrases:

"One drop of kerosene spoils the soup" or "Do the right thing because it's the right thing to do."

As a high schooler, I automatically thought, "Yeah, yeah, OK. Now get to your point."

However, later in life, it seemed that all of the missing pieces came together and I finally had an "Aha!" moment realizing exactly why these phrases were repeated time after time.

For me, that moment occurred when numerous people indicated that the job profession I had chosen was not good enough.

"Emily, you are such an intelligent young lady. Why on Earth would you want to be a gym teacher?"

After hearing this statement over and over again from various individuals, I began to become confused.

Confused with myself, confused with my decisions, confused with... Well, just about everything.

I was so upset that the people who I thought would be encouraging and supportive were nothing more than disappointed and frustrated with me.

As I contemplated changing my major once again, something had settled in the back of my mind that I could not shake. A thought I could not get rid of.

"If you love your job, you will never work a day in your life"

This was something Mr. Elliott would say deliberately when people would ask him why he loved his job so much.

That one phrase stuck with me. It was my answer to all of these unending questions that haunted me.

I want to be a physical education instructor not because I love wearing warm-ups, not because I get summers off, not because I am not capable of working harder to pursue anything else, but simply because it is what I love to do.

I love sports. I love being active. I love small children. And most importantly...

I want to influence a student just as Mr. Elliott has influenced me!

I want students to look forward to coming to my class. I want to be able to crack jokes and give students the impression that I understand them individually. I want to be looked up to, and of course...

I want to be a Molder of Dreams—an individual who leaves an irremovable mark on a student's heart that helps shape and mold them as a person.

To the teacher who touched my life forever...

Thank you for the countless hours you spent working with us day in and day out. Thank you for the high-fives and "how are you's" that turned a bad day upside down. Thank you for the silly sayings—such as "you bunch of dunderheads"—that kept us constantly laughing. Thank you for never holding a grudge and giving each student a clean slate each day. This list could go on forever, although there is one that must be mentioned...

Thank you for being my all-time favorite teacher and the "Molder" of my personal dreams! I can only hope to be half as great as you someday!