(I am very nervous about going to the dentist, and I go to a new practice to get a cavity filled. The dentist is very friendly and supportive through the whole procedure.)

Dentist: “You’re doing great!”

(I make a noise that sounds like ‘thank you’ because, of course, she’s working on filling the cavity and I can’t talk.)

Dentist: “You’re welcome! I understand what people mean when they make that noise… or maybe they’re actually saying ‘F*** you’ and I’ll never know!”

(It’s hard to laugh with a dentist drill in your mouth but I did!)

(During every lecture, our professor gives us a two question quiz on paper, which you hand in at the end. You would think after successfully completing thirteen years of school, students would know to put their name on anything they are handing in, but alas, they apparently have not learned. At the end of lecture:)

Professor: “Make sure you put your name on it! I do hold it up to the light and try to feel your psychic signature, but if that doesn’t work… it goes straight in the bin.”

(The store I work at is a punk/gag retail store. Our customers generally range from the usual teenagers, to the occasional adult. We’re required to greet every guest as they enter the store and provide them with a promotion. It’s not uncommon for guests to completely ignore us. This happens to be one of those times.)

Me: “Hey, Welcome to [Store]. How are you?”

Customer: *ignores me*

(Once the customer is out of earshot, I turn to my store manager who has been standing beside me given the rather slow day.)

Manager: “I’m great; how are you?”

Me: “I’m good! Can I help you find anything?”

Manager: “No, just browsing.”

Me: “All right! Well, jewelry is buy one, get one half off! Feel free to ask if you have any questions.”

Manager: “Thank you!”

(We then parted ways and went about our business as if nothing ever happened.)

I am a college sophomore. I am back home for winter break so I decide to visit my old high school to catch up with some of my former teachers. There was one teacher in particular who had made an extremely significant mark on my life when I was younger and I am excited to see her. She’s one of those really energetic teachers who jumps on desks and stuff. She’s teaching a class when I show up so I wait for the bell to ring.

As soon as she sees me in the doorway, she actually SCREAMS my last name and sprints across the room to give me a hug. Her next English class starts to filter in, and to my surprise, she skips the lesson and asks me to talk to them about college instead. We have a long and fun lesson where I assure them of the merits of learning MLA and proper writing skills, which pleases the teacher immensely.

After the class we have a long private discussion about life and politics and such, and she gives me some much-needed advice. I was a bit of a rebel in high school and didn’t get very good grades, but now I’m about to graduate college having been on the dean’s list almost every semester and already working in my intended field. It all goes to show what an impact some teachers can have on your life long after you leave their class.

(I am in my last year of school, which usually results in a relaxed teaching atmosphere because everyone who is still there really wants to learn. For the last two years of school students can choose most of their courses; however, maths is mandatory for everyone. I end up in one of those mandatory classes. Needless to say, none of the students are too interested in the subject, just trying to pass. That year we are assigned a new teacher who is pretty young and obviously excited to start his first real teaching job. On the first day of class…)

Teacher: *after his introduction, beaming at the class* “So that’s enough about myself. Now, are you excited to study some maths? Tackle those solutions!”

(Embarrassed silence follows his words. Finally, a classmate speaks up slowly:)

Classmate: “Mr. [Teacher], do you realize what sort of course this is?”

Teacher: “Sure? Year 13, Basic Maths?”

Classmate: “And… sorry to kill your buzz, but none of us chose to be here. Basically, we sort of hate maths, but we have to endure it to get our certificates.” *several nods and murmurs of agreement from the rest of the class*

Teacher: *looks taken aback and sort of crestfallen* “But… I mean… You’re all… I mean, really? But maths is fun!”

(In the end, we feel so sorry for him and his crushed hope that we come to an agreement: We’ll do the work willingly, no debating and moaning, as long as he accepts that this is certainly not ‘fun’ for us. In exchange he actually sets aside one hour per week for us to all play games together instead of doing coursework, complete with impromptu theatre or the occasional show organized by a student who was an amateur magician. It improves the mood so much that everyone puts in the work in their free time, and I actually pass the course with better grades than in the years before. At the end of the year, after grades are given and coursework completed, we have a couple lessons left with nothing to do, so we usually end up just chatting. On the last day ever, the teacher comes in and stands up proudly:)

Teacher: “Here’s to the end of my first year as a teacher. I’m happy to say you guys taught me more than I ever expected, and I want to thank you all for putting up with me and my apparently abnormal love for maths. May you all prosper in your non-scientific endeavours.”

(We all clapped and laughed. Afterwards, though, he added:)

Teacher: “Besides, I’m so f****** happy they assigned me the advanced class for next year. I’ll be with my kind again at last.”