The only writing experience I possessed before Ms. Raines’s English class was my sixth grade Hunger Games fanfiction and not-quite-but-quite-plagiarized stories of my favorite books. I had an obvious passion for language, words bleeding on a page, innovation of imagination, but the skills were lackluster. It was as if my writing was the lead part of a pencil wearing off: not sharp. However, the moment I stepped into Ms. Raines’s class on the first day as an anxious eighth grader, I had a certain bubble of excitement brewing in my stomach. Although many prior students complained that she was strict, I quickly found out it was a careless little rumor. She showed us a powerpoint presentation on her life, and I was starry-eyed over how passionate she was vocally. I was wrapped around her finger; I wanted to learn from her.
Needless to say, Ms. Raines was the first teacher that I yearned for the approval of. I spent more time perfecting my assignments than any other class, the thought of her scanning over my personal writing nerve wracking but eager. My first assignment from her gained an eighty-five, points decreased because I didn’t follow the format correctly. If it was any other teacher, I most likely would explode in a fit of rage, but the want to improve for her rushed in my veins. She pushed me to the edge while teaching me the best tips to writing formal essays that are engraved in my heart.
Not only did she improve my writing, but she also provided me with life long lessons that will forever stay in my mind. Ms. Raines has a golden heart. Her care for her students lies within the little things nobody pays much attention to: grading essays with precision, taking us through a whole month intensive writing camp, being a little too strict, praising our different styles, the humor laced in her words, little bits of philosophy shared by her. I have nothing but respect for her. Ms. Raines is an educator, somebody that is necessity to learn by.
Now that I am in tenth grade, she is teaching my little brother, Aaron, currently. My mom emailed her one day since Aaron was sick from school, wanting his makeup work and also letting her know that I missed her. She provided my mother with the most heartwarming response which invoked a nostalgic cry session from me. Ms. Raines said in her email, “She certainly has talent in the craft of writing, so I’m thrilled to hear she is happily honing her skill… Please give her a hug because the fondness is mutual. She is a fine person.”
I promised myself that if my book ever became published, the traditional dedication page at the front of the story would be reserved for the first teacher to introduce me to true writing. Ms. Raines has built my writing foundation, and I never intend to forget it. She will forever be the reason behind my love for words, sentences, and the inner workings of English flying across the galaxy.