Dear Mrs. Zunker,

I found this old photograph of my third grade class, and it brought back so many memories of you and Roger Sherman Elementary School.  That’s me, in the second row, third from the left, with the overbite (it’s been fixed since then, in case you’re interested).

My third-grade self with my brother

You taught me many valuable lessons, and I never thanked you.  You taught me never to sit in front of Christopher Rappolt when I was wearing pigtails, never to set my milk carton on the radiator unless I was fond of the taste of warm wax, and never ever to be the tail in Crack-the-Whip.  As valuable as those lessons proved to be, it was what you didn’t say that taught me more.  You never spoke to any of us with an angry voice.  You never corrected us in front of others or made us an example to the whole class.  You never made us feel stupid, even if our answers were wrong.  You never punished us for youthful transgressions but taught us to make better choices.  When I became a teacher, I thought back to that third grade class and the lessons I learned about treating others, taking responsibility for my actions, finding wonder and beauty in even the seemingly ordinary things of life, and always striving to be the best that I could be.  I hope that my life reflected that teaching to my own students.  Thank you, Mrs. Zunker, for being my teacher.