We had been assigned to read The Teacher Who Changed My Life by Nicolas Gage that night. I, being the reading nerd in the class, had actually read unlike most of my classmates. It was an inspirational story about a teacher who had, in a tough-love manner, who inspired a Greek immigrant to be a journalist. Our English teacher assigned us to write an essay on someone who inspired us. He gave about five minutes to write a paragraph to start off, and then he set us up in groups of three or four to share our paragraphs. We had to pick on person out of the group to read their paragraph to the class. In my group was Curtis, the class clown, Anna, someone I admittedly only talked to when I needed to, Emily, someone I hadn’t really talked to because she sat on the other side of the room from me, and me. Curtis read his paragraph about his wrestling coach and I read my paragraph about my best friend who helped me through a rough summer.
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