Ms. Diana Adams

There is a sacred room in the 9000 building of American Heritage School. Its walls, proudly boasting an abundance of student awards and certificates, have seen their share of meltdowns. Here, ideas have been born, tears have been shed, and unbreakable bonds have been forged.

In this room, the home of the Yearbook, Newspaper, and Literary Magazine staffs, the goddess Diana reigns supreme. She reclines in her black leather chair proofreading our articles with a red pen poised regally in her right hand. Whether it’s a misused word or misplaced comma, Ms. Diana Adams’s clear blue eyes will find it.

She arrives well before the 7:45 morning bell to supervise the National Junior Honor Society meetings, and stays long after dismissal, managing to juggle detention, club meetings, and paper grading while tirelessly enduring the demands of the school’s various publications teams. In the two years that I have been privileged enough to have her, never once has a complaint passed her lips.

Ms. Adams speaks with a frankness that may seem intimidating to first-time students. She’s definitely not one for beating around the bush, nor does she gladly suffer fools, and one look from her can be enough to cure even the most stubborn case of senioritis. But those brave souls dedicated enough to stick out the first few weeks of the chaotic publications classes are quick to find that their classmates begin to seem more like family than fellow students.

At the heart of it all is Ms. Adams, both mother and mentor, and sometimes the only level head in a department that’s always “feast or famine”.
With eleven years of teaching behind her and over seven subjects under her jurisdiction, Ms. Adams is undoubtedly the resident Wonder Woman of Heritage. But it’s the unwavering faith she has in her students that has really earned her a place in each of their hearts. She brings a passion to her classes that is impossible for students to remain immune from. Whether it’s analyzing news articles, constructing haikus, or applying Greek mythology and science fiction to everyday life, Ms. Adams infects her students with a desire and eagerness to master the task at hand—and she does it as effortlessly as a toss of her sandy blonde bob.
The word “impossible” is unknown to her, and she constantly pushes her kids to surpass their own expectations. Ms. Adams’s students don’t reach for the stars—they grab onto them with an iron fist.





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