Since it is the season of being thankful and being full of happiness and holiday cheer, I’ve decided to follow the trend and write about something I am thankful for. After hours of deliberating on what I am the most thankful for, my thoughts kept returning to school (it’s exam time, so it’s been on my mind.)

For the majority of the population that’s not aware, I am an English major with an education concentration (I was actually just accepted into our education department on Wofford’s campus! Woo hoo!), so as you can surely imagine, I am very passionate about education: tearing up whenever I see a video on Facebook about a teacher helping his/her students, going into a blind rage when common core is mentioned, and swooning when I meet a man that teaches (I’ve had many discussions with my mother that I will refuse to marry any man that doesn’t share my passion for educating our nation’s future.) So when I think of school, my mind immediately goes to teaching and the teachers that have impacted my life in so many ways.

The first teacher I would like to express my thanks to is my A.R.M.E.S. Drama teacher, Dr. Kathryn Ballou, lovingly referred to as “Dr. Kat” by all. I had the immense pleasure of being her student from the time I was a tiny, naive fourth grader, until I was in the ninth grade, trying to navigate high school. She is the living definition of an actress/director/life changer/motivator/mentor if there ever was one. She made acting become a part of who I am, she showed me what it felt like to have such a deep passion for something, she revealed to me the importance of finding a hobby to get my frustrations out with. She gave me so many life skills I wouldn’t have obtained any other way: public speaking, improvisation, working under pressure, and flexibility (not physically).

All this is not to mention her most important quality; she got me over my debilitating fear of dogs. Story time: I told Dr. Kat that I was afraid of dogs the first time she brought her adorable dog, Buster, to the theater. She promptly told me, “Okay. You will be handling Buster today, then. Don’t leave his side.” It was tough love, and not the most conventional technique, but it worked.

I wouldn’t have chosen English as my major without having the wonderful, fabulous Mrs. Vicky Gill as my sixth grade English teacher. She was quirky, funny, smart, and really knew how to get her students interested in what they were forced to read by state standards. Can I be honest? (English majors/people, don’t read this part.) I hated reading all throughout my life up until this point. *The audience gasps!* I know, I know. An English major who hasn’t loved reading her whole life? I’m probably the only one.

I owe it to Mrs. Gill for my love of reading, writing, and the vast English language. After her initial shock of hearing I hated to even look at a book, she recommended I start reading the "Harry Potter" series. Lucky for me, my dad had the entire series at our house. I remember starting "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone" and not wanting to put it down. I finished it in just a few days, and my dad beamed the entire time that I was actually holding a book and not falling asleep while reading it. I immediately told Mrs. Gill when I finished the book and that I had loved it. She jumped for joy.

So started my life of never looking up from a novel. So everyone, blame Mrs. Gill when I’m choosing not to stop reading my book while you’re trying to get my attention. It isn’t my fault, I swear.

I would be the greatest of disappointments if I did not talk about the teacher that really set into stone the type of teacher I want to be. Ladies and gentlemen, the great, the one, the only… MSgt Kenneth Clere. It was a privilege having MSgt Clere teach me for all four “enjoyable” years of my high school career in Air Force JROTC.

MSgt Clere is one of those guys that will never smile or tell you he cares, but will go out of his way to make sure even those he has never met have anything they need, all while knowing he will never get his due appreciation for all that he does. He let me cry my eyes out and spill my guts to him in his office, spoke to teachers I was having problems with for me, taught me the value and weight of responsibility, let me prove my worth to my peers and teachers, did more than he could to ensure I got into the college I wanted with the scholarships I needed, and he was a friend I trusted and heavily relied on throughout high school. He lovingly called me “wolf-girl” (because of my hair when I run), “girl” (because I was one of the only girls in JROTC who actually had high ranking positions), and “Emma” with a terrifying undertone when I knew I had done something wrong.

He was more important to me than he will ever know and more impactful then I fear I can ever truly express. So before I start crying about how vital he was to me (my makeup is looking great and I don’t want to ruin it with tears), I’ll move on to my last two teachers that I’m beyond thankful for.

These last two teachers have to be lumped together for good reason; Greg and Diane Newell, who I refer to as “mom and dad.” Where would I be without y’all? Nonexistent is the answer, so thanks for that! Y’all taught me how to walk, speak, read, write, and how to not depend on diapers. Both of you showed me what it is like to be a good human being. From mom I learned compassion for others, how to be a good listener, how important a good education is and my passion for it, how to be polite and courteous, and how to put other’s needs before my own. From my dad, I learned how vital reading and knowledge is, how to appreciate a good meal, how to use language to hurt, help, and impress others, how to appreciate the little things in life, how to never judge a book by its cover (figuratively and literally), and to never marry a lawyer (side note: my dad is a lawyer, that’s why.)

Y’all also taught me what a marriage is supposed to be like. Never once do I remember my parents raising their voices to each other (except when my dad didn’t hear what my mom said, but that’s because he is terrible at listening and borderline deaf.) They would sacrifice something so the other could be happy, or both of them sacrificing something so my brother and I can have the best. They still hold hands, kiss, hug, and go on dates after being married for so many years. They are polar opposites, but I think that is why they work so well together; my dad talks her ear off about history and books while my mom talks about her day in the classroom and how frustrating our education system is. They love each other after so many years of dealing with each other. They are the perfect model I have for when I get married someday.

So Dr. Kat, thank you. Mrs. Gill, thank you. MSgt Clere, thank you. Mom and dad, thank both of you. Without all of you, I wouldn’t be half the person I am today. You all shaped me in ways you will never understand, and I am thankful beyond measure for having all of you in my life.