Feel free to take your head out of your hands, and let your guard down for three minutes. I’m not writing this letter to shove a plethora of abortion statistics down your throat, or  to convince you of the absolute why or why not “I now pronounce you husband and husband” should be allowed. Instead I ask you to simply think back. Back before you gave your name up for the title “senator" or even before you lost your name to the title “intern.” Recall, if you would, the days when you strapped on Velcro shoes instead of shiny black ones. When you chewed on Double Bubble, and not the opposing council. When you kissed your mother’s forehead and not strangers’ babies. Picture your favorite elementary teacher. I know you had one; everyone did. I’m writing you this letter to shine light on an issue that, unfortunately, isn’t even an issue. In a world where a master's degree  automatically qualifies you for anything, we’ve lost sight of what it means to be a human first and a working class citizen second. I think this notion is paramount in an institution that has such a lasting effect on us as students, and as people.

    My third grade teacher was my hero. She was able to get all of us excited about school because it was reading day, or we were going to start a new project; not because in two hours and twenty-eight minutes we would be pelting tiny balls of death at each other’s heads, gratified by the “phink” sound rubber makes when in contact with a face. I carried this new fire with me all year. I didn’t sleep a wink the day before fourth grade, radiating excitement for what I could only imagine would be better than third grade. Day one of fourth grade, my fire was thrown unceremoniously into a bucket of water along with my desire to try. I didn’t sleep that second night either, but for another reason entirely. In one day my teacher had managed to exert her position as a superior in order to instill in each of us the fact that without her knowlege we would never succeed. The pattern continued for another eight years. Exemplary teachers rekindling the fire, so that abysmal ones could blow it out with the hissing of their arrow-like words. Thus I present you with a question: Does having a moral backbone and zeal for teaching trump the alphabet soup following one’s name? I believe that the way a teacher makes a student feel is just as profoundly vital to their educational success as how much they know.      

    I would hope the answer to said question would be blatantly obvious. Without a student’s desire to learn more, no amount of knowledge will be absorbed. When a pupil hears more often what he/she doesn’t know, or what they haven’t done right; what incentive is there to pick up the slack and forge ahead? As a student myself, I can easily and confidently tell you there’s not much. So, Mr. CEO of America, I offer not solely problems with no solutions. The answer is beautifully simple.

    I have three younger brothers, all of whom have been discouraged, labeled, and made very aware of their inferiority by the same teachers. If it’s identifiable over a ten year age gap, there is something that the teacher in not doing right, and that should be addressed. So how do we determine which teachers are getting the job done in a positive, constructive way? ASK! I truly and honestly believe that every student has a valuable opinion that's worth hearing, even the ones that have already given up on themselves. I'm not asking for a teacher recall, or a mass firing. Simply to survey students annually on what they think about how teachers have helped or hindered their own succes. True, there are those vindictive few who would abuse the survey to seek revenge on the teacher of their choice, but I also think it would be an eye opener to not only those teachers doing poorly in the eyes of their students... but also the ones who are making an impact.