ALHS c/o 2022

“Who’s your favorite class?”

One of my students would constantly ask me.

I told him I didn’t have a favorite, but if I did, it wasn’t them. It was the class above them. He still asked me every day, for the next 2 years. Each class he was in lowkey pushed my buttons. It tested my patience and understanding in my role as the adult in charge. Eventually, he began contributing ideas to shape the classroom. And he became my TA his senior year. He’s off to UC Santa Cruz.

I had another student who always asked me for extra credit. And not because she was failing. But because she was so eager to have the highest grades. She always asked for more challenging work. Or something else to do. And her teacher told me that the program she’s in required me to just push the kids a little more. But in reality, she was pushing me to be a better teacher. She also became my TA her senior year. She’s off to UC Santa Barbra

There were also kids who didn’t annoy me. Who were quiet, but ultimately appreciative of what I did for them. I didn’t really notice their kindness until they returned mine with theirs or held space for me instead. If anything, they gave me more flack because I wasn’t caring for myself. One became my TA for two years through graduation. The other one flaked but still would be just as supportive. They’re off to UCLA

There were kids who made life-long friendships in my class. The ones that have fun in your class but make your room come alive at lunch. Some even made up a new language which to this day I don’t understand but is hilarious that they still actually use it.

Then there were the kids who looked up to me—thinking that I was responsible or mature enough to advise and foster their leadership. They became the presidents of my clubs, student government, and other academic achievements.

The irony of my student’s question earlier is that so many kids like him who pushed my buttons. And some who didn’t. But the crazy part after returning in person. And going through these crazy 10 months with them was seeing how much they’ve changed from the first day they walked through my door as 9th graders. They weren’t lost or afraid. They weren’t brazen or immature (maybe as immature). But they grew up. And I did too.

Some students I worked with for two, three, and even four years. Almost every letter of recommendation I wrote this year had maybe too much bias and emotions in it. And I vicariously live through their hard work and achievements. It was also reconciliation and affirmation for me. I can’t take all the credit, but I’m honored that I played a part in their academic success.

To be honest, working at a school does get lonely. And much of my life the past four years were spent with many of these graduates. Whether or not they or I realize it—I was just as much of a freshman as they were. And I felt accepted and less alone because of them.

It really is true. You do learn from your students as much as they learn from you. And I owe a lot to this graduating class of 2022. I never got to properly send off some of my favorite students and now friends in 2021. And to both graduating classes, I still hold some regret. For not being the best teacher I could have been. For not being the best advisor I could have been. Because they turned me into one. They taught me so much. And I owe them that.

My classroom is designed the way it is today because of them. I found a new and sustainable passion for teaching because of them. And I can make a better classroom for future students because of them.

They always say that your first class hits different. And though I’ve had many firsts in this field. This was the first and once-in-a-lifetime experience with these kids. I don’t think I’ll ever relive starting anew as a fresh graduate with incoming 9th graders. Walking a 4-year path with them, changing grade levels with them. And sending them off.

My high school teacher always told me I never gave myself enough credit, which is true. But really,

“Who’s [my] favorite class?” I think you know.

Though this isn’t the end and I signed in many of your yearbooks—it’s been an honor being your teacher. I’m excited to see where you’ll go next.

Take care,
Mr. B