What would you write about your favorite teacher who is retiring?
-I have to write a paper about my favorite teacher which is retiring and I don't know how to say. How should I write it?
Public Comments
- Talk about a specific experience that meant something to you! Tell about how she made such a difference and how you won't forget her and why. Speak from your heart.
- just wright about all the good times you had in that class and say that she was a good teacher and that you were very lucky to have her as a teacher
- talk about what they've taught you, and that you will miss them being a teacher even if you don't.
- maybe you leave it blank and say on the very end of the paper that I say it best when I say nothing at all. Did I help? Sorry for the stupid answer.
- Well, I had this same thing to do recently except it was a short speech at a program. And it was also a surprise. I am not sure if this is apporite on a paper or not, but I started out about my self. How I started school just 4 short years ago as a shy freshman, da da da. Then after a bit about myself I said that I have *name* to thank for all that has happened to me though my high school career. Unfortunally, he will be leaving this year, taking on a new assiagnment (This was a AFJROTC instructor) as a retarted..I..I mean a retired....da...da.da. I would make it funny, because thats what someones retirement is about. Good Luck!! Oh and the whole retarted thing goes back to old folks joke. They will get it, trust me.
- Just say: ☭ Join the REVOLUTION ☭
- It is obvious that this teacher means a lot to you, and had a profound affect, on your life. That being the case, the paper shouldn't be that hard to write. First, collect your thoughts, and go from there. Let this teacher know, just what he or she means to you, and how blessed you feel, to have had him or her as a teacher. That your development is largely due, to his or her knowledge and guidance, and then end, with how sad you are to see him or her go. This is just a guide, but if you hit these points, you should do just fine. Oh, and wish him or her well, in the future. Good luck.
- Do you remember the day you decided to become a teacher? Was it because there was a wonderful teacher who taught you? Did you decide then, that you would like to be to someone as they were to you? Or did you look around you at a classroom one day and decide, this is where I belong? Whatever the reason, I am so glad that you became a teacher. My life is a little bit more enriched because you were there for me. I wonder how many faces have you seen over the years? I imagine you’ve seen students with every emotion at play over their faces. Happiness at discovering they have understood what was being taught that day. Frustration masquerading as anger when the concept wasn’t immediately grasped. Boredom, hate, joy, love, despair, pain... I know you’ve seen them all. How many must have touched your heart? Do you see their faces even now? How many remember your face? I’ll bet there are many who can recall you. We always remember the best teachers. The special ones that by their actions, their tone of voice, the look on their face, showed that they really cared about us. You are that kind of teacher. I will always smile when I think of you. Do you have little mementoes, little souvenirs that you saved throughout the years? Perhaps an exceptional paper, a flower given spontaneously, a picture? Little gifts that say, thank you. It is nice to have things we can hold in our hands to remember, trinkets we can take out from time to time and examine. But the richest memories are packed away in our minds where we can examine them at anytime. Please, may I be a memory for you as you will be for me? I wish I had the words to tell you how all the students you ever taught would tell you if they were here today, thank you. Thank you for choosing those many years ago to become a teacher. You will never know how many lives you have influenced for good, but I am absolutely sure there are a great many. And they all say, as you retire this year, thank you.
