Dear Mr. Malone...

Dear Mr. Malone, 

It’s been ten years since I graduated high school, and I still think of you as my favorite teacher. Even from the first day of school, I could tell that you loved history and were fulfilled by teaching it. If it hadn’t been for your enthusiasm, I probably wouldn’t have focused in your class. When I heard that you were retiring and the school was collecting letters to give you on your last day as a teacher, I knew that I wanted to be involved. You were so dedicated to giving us good lessons, and you were unphased even when Derek would blurt out in class. Thank you for being a teacher who was invested in our education and wanted the best for us. 

With love, 

Angie McDonald

Dear Mr. Malone,

I can still remember the great lessons you taught us in history class back when we were in the fourth grade. Even though it’s been some time, you made an impact. Not many teachers nowadays care about making class interesting for a bunch of ten-year-olds. Even fewer teachers would be willing to stand up on a desk and reenact Washington crossing the Delaware. I know our class wasn’t the easiest to deal with because we had quite a few disrespectful students who interrupted the lesson or would argue when you asked them to pay attention, but I appreciate that you did not let a few bad apples ruin the whole orchard. Thank you for making fourth grade fun.

Sincerely,

Michael Chambers

Dear Mr. Malone,

Even as early as elementary school, I had already accepted my fate: I was not a smart kid. No offense to the kids who were academic, but I was not one of them. It didn’t matter the subject. Science, history, math, English, I struggled with all of them. I decided that I wasn’t smart enough to be a good student long before I was in your class. However, I was lucky enough to have Mr. Malone as my fourth grade teacher. You saw the grades that I made on the worksheets. You saw me struggle through the tests. You saw Derek taunting me when I hurried to hide my graded assignments because I was so ashamed of my failing marks. You saw that, and you took action. You spent time during study hall with me. You sat down with me and worked with me until I understood the key concepts. You didn’t just help me with history either. You helped me with other subjects too. By the end of the year, there wasn’t a monumental change in my grades, but instead of making F’s, I was making D’s in my classes. The main improvement was not in a letter grade but in my personality. After your class, I realized that I could learn anything the smart kids could. All I needed was someone to believe in me, and that was you. Now, I followed in your footsteps, and I am teaching sixth grade history! Thank you for showing me that I am capable of more than I ever thought possible.

Gratefully, 

Robert Ernesto

Dear Mr. Malone,

When I hear your name, I think of virtue. Virtue is not something that is talked about enough in modern society, but it is something that you embody completely. It’s something that is difficult to teach, but somehow you managed to do it. I think of a particular incident from when I was a student in your class. Every day, there would be arguments over who would get to play with the soccer ball. The school only had one soccer ball in the recess equipment, so sharing was required. One day, my friends and I had gotten the soccer ball and were kicking it around. We weren’t playing a full game. We were just passing it to one another. Well, I passed the ball to Abigail Winborne, and as she was preparing to pass it to another person, Derek Newsome ran up, pushed Abigail over, and stole the soccer ball. I was fuming mad and began to stomp over there with clenched fists, ready to throw hands. There wasn’t anyone who liked Derek. He was constantly putting others down with his words and actions. He was rude to you. He bullied multiple classmates. If anyone deserved to be punched in the face, it was Derek. Before I could get to him, you stepped in front of me and stopped me. “You can’t control what others do, you can only control what you do,” you told me before adding, “let me handle this.” You walked over to Derek, calmly spoke to him, and got the ball back for my friends and me. I could see him spatting insults at you, but you remained cool and collected. Since then, I’ve never reacted out of emotion, only empathy. No matter what others do, I am going to stay true to my code of ethics. Thank you for leading by example.

Enjoy Retirement,

Jerry Fretwell

Dear Mr. Malone,

Congratulations on your retirement! It is much deserved! There were so many lessons that you taught me during the year that you were my teacher, but I want to thank you for one specifically. As a child of immigrant parents, I was taught that education is the key to making it. If I could get high enough grades, I could get accepted to an esteemed college. If I could get into an esteemed college, I could get a stable, high-paying job. This was my parents’ top priority, and while their intentions were good, it put a lot of stress on me as a young student. Well, with one particular test, I earned a B, and I was so anxious about how my father would react after school. It wouldn’t matter that everyone else in the class had gotten a lower grade than I had. He would see that B, and disregarding the hours I had studied, he would assume I hadn’t put effort forth. I was so upset over the grade, and although I tried to hide it, you saw right through me. As I left the classroom that day, with tears welling up in my eyes from fear of my father’s impending judgment, you stood at the door and said, “Good job on the test today. I’m proud of you.” This simple statement taught me that the grade did not determine my worth. Sure, my parents still held me to a standard that I would never reach. The other kids in the class would always call me the geeky girl and bully me all the way to graduation. It didn’t matter to me anymore. I was valuable regardless of what a report card said, and that only made me want to study harder and learn because I wanted to learn. Thank you for teaching me that the only opinion that matters is my own. 

Yours, 

Dana Lee

Dear Mr. Malone, 

It’s been a year since you retired. I remember reading about the letters to you in the newspaper, and I never got around to writing you until now. I am probably the last person that you expected to get a letter from, but here I am writing you regardless. I’ve rewritten this letter so many times because I don’t know how to explain how grateful I am for you. I was a nuisance. I was a distraction. I was a bully. I was a jerk. I know that’s how my classmates saw me, but they didn’t see the other half of my life. I was abused. I was the product of an addicted mother. I was the son of a deadbeat father. I was at my breaking point. Therefore, I acted rash, rude, and repulsively. One time when I stole a soccer ball from a group of classmates, you had every right to yell at me and punish me. To my surprise, you didn’t. After that experience, you may not have known that you made an impact. I didn’t even know it, but you had planted a seed of kindness in me. I eventually grew out of my circumstances, let go of my hurtful habits, and moved on with my life. A year ago, I saw your retirement announcement and thought back to when I took the soccer ball from those kids, pushed Abigail down, and had that conversation with you. I was flooded with guilt and immediately reached out to Abigail. We met for coffee, and I told her how sorry I was for my behavior. For some unknown reason, she accepted my apology. We continued to spend time together, and now, I am proud to call her my fiancé. This never would’ve happened without your impact in my life. So, thank you. Thank you for being patient with a kid who was hiding his struggle. Thank you for not assuming the worst in me. Thank you for showing me grace. 

With respect and gratitude,

Derek Newsome