Narrative Essay – My Favorite Teacher
In high school, my favorite teacher was a large man called Mr Scott. He taught English Literature on the top floor of the science block in an old science lab. He was my favorite teacher for a number of reasons at a school that was well-known for its poor standards of teaching.
He would open every lesson in a disciplined manner by quickly silencing the class and getting on with the work. This was a rarity at my school because pupils would typically waste the first ten minutes. Mr Scott had a no tolerance rule in place and would purposely refuse to let any latecomers in until he’d assigned some work to us.
It wasn’t just the fact Mr Scott was different from the other teachers that made him my favorite teacher. He would make lessons engaging by encouraging everyone to read whatever text we happened to be reading. He would even do this with the shyer students, who normally had problems reading aloud.
Through his hard work, he managed to bring them out of their shells. He understood the problems many people faced, especially in relation to public speaking. Whilst Mr Scott would never dream of letting us just avoid the task, he wouldn’t try to humiliate anyone either. He had a special touch that enabled us to overcome our challenges, but also knowing where our real limits were.
He was able to get the best out of us. I remember in particular a task where I had to give a short speech on prisons. I was terrible at public speaking and would do practically anything to avoid it. He didn’t let me escape it, even if I managed to delay it for a number of weeks. My speech wasn’t fantastic, but I still managed to get a passing grade for it. And that was because Mr Scott made me go up and do it. He understood where my true limits were.
What truly reinforced my belief that he was my favorite teacher was the way he could teach students with the view to getting the highest grades without us even realising. For example, at the end of every lesson he would play a comical video he found online. It added some light-hearted relief that kept morale high and trouble low.
At the same time, he was never someone who overstepped his professional bounds. After receiving my results for my January exams, he walked past me and simply commented that it was an A+, the highest grade available. He didn’t smile or show any outward signs of joy, but I knew he was delighted deep inside.
Nothing changed after this. As we transitioned to the English language part of the course, he continued what he was doing in the same way. It worked and his class got the highest grades in the history of the school.
After leaving school, he only remained for another year before departing to another school for better pay. Despite this, he’s my favorite teacher and a cut above every other teacher to have entered my life.