Never had I ever met an English teacher who would read his own writing for the class to see. I have only known rubrics and short snippets of thoughtless words to give you a general idea of what you are supposed to do, but at the sight of your writing, our skill was night and day, and I saw a lifetime of learning before me. There and then I wanted to write, I wanted to try to mimic the words I saw on the page. I didn’t care about the amount of work required; I didn’t care how long it took; in seconds, I wanted to write like you. To be able to sway the minds of the untamed on an annual basis, I know students before me have been inspired to work harder with the idea; in time, they would finally compare to you. Regardless of the deadline I had to meet, or how unenthused I was by an assignment, I set a standard for my writing; one that I promised myself I would never fall below. With every writing assignment, I would seek the feedback you had for me, for I was not going to settle writing something I was not proud of because that would contradict the will you have instilled in all of us, and that is to get better.

With every class, I started to question this identity I had found so evident in the seventh grade. My will to get better at writing forced me to reconsider who I really was as a student. Now, if you were to ask me what type of student I am, I would have no definitive reply, but something I definitely can’t deny is, this year, I enjoyed my English class the most, as well as the teacher.

There is something about your class that would make any student treasure it as much I did. Whether it is the convenient timing in our lives that made the wild thirteen year old mature a bit more at the sight of role model; whether it is the setup in our whole Fenn English career that gives us all the basics, for you to take that to levels farther than we could ever imagine, or just you, Fitz. Though whatever the case, where ever I go in life, it is the lessons I have learned from you whether, from the classroom, wrestling mat, or even through a zoom call, I will keep and cherish for as long as I can remember.

I may not be one for sentiment, but the gift of this class was taken all too soon though I find one thing that softens the blow is realizing, my class, is one part of an ongoing cycle. For the end of this road we travel, signifies a start to another, so for the regret I may harbor for the things I didn’t say or do, I know another class, who will hopefully have a better end than we did.

So thank you, Fitz, for all that happened this year, I would like to thank you for all you have done for me.

Sincerely,
Yoni Ghansah