My sophomore year was rough. I lost my grandfather the day after my birthday, and I was struggling in every class. I had no idea how to get a hold on my life. Every day I dreaded going to school because it was just one more reminder that I was failing and was as worthless as I felt. All I wanted was someone to help me.

My grandfather died while I was spending my birthday in Disney World. He had been fighting cancer for two years, so I was expecting it, but I still wasn’t prepared. This was heartbreaking to me. All of my teachers knew; my mother had told them. But the only one who approached me the day I returned and told me how sorry he was was Dr. Karcha.

Dr. Karcha’s honors chemistry room was the only classroom that had the air conditioning on all year, and it was always bright enough to make New York City look dim. I can remember the excitement that would bubble in my stomach as I weaved my way through the hordes of groggy teenagers to get to that room, to the only teacher who made me feel like I meant something during this dark time in my life.

Dr. Karcha was the type of teacher who wrote everything on the whiteboard – always in blue marker, because it was his favorite. He would give us notes during part of the class because he didn’t want to overload us with information. But he was also the only teacher who made me feel like he understood. We would have long conversations about college and anything else I wanted to know about.

At the end of our conversations, he always said, “Anything you need, all you have to do is ask.” This might not seem like a lot, but to me, it felt like someone was giving me a chance. After that, I worked hard to make him proud. I wanted him to see that he wasn’t wasting his time on me.

Thank you, Dr. Karcha, from the bottom of my heart. Getting through sophomore year would have been impossible without your support and knowing you believed in me. Thank you for helping me decide what I want to do with my life and for shaping me as a person. I may have only been in your class for nine months, but those days when I would sit in your freezing, over-bright room were some of the best of my young life.

Thank you for everything. I’ll never, ever forget you.