is because of special moments that keep me going. If you asked me the very best, it would be a note, handwritten in pencil, misspelled, but I could not care less about that. It reads simply:
Dear Mr. Bernstein
I just want to say thank you for everything. You could have let me do what I wanted and I would have been held back in your class. I liked your class alot because you never gave up on me. No matter how stupied I acted you helped me alot and most teachers’ would not have been there for me.
Thank you verry much for being than just a teacher.
His name was Mark. He was troubled. He was an 8th grader. His English teacher and I refused to abandon him. Sometime around March he blossomed, something clicked, and his classmates selected him to be their Commencement Speaker.
You cannot measure this by test scores.
The note is one of the high points of 16 years of teaching. When I am depressed - about anything - I turn to it, ponder it again, and know no matter how hard the task, our efforts can make a difference. Which is why I do not give up.
Peace.