It was the first day of second semester—grey skies and snow on the ground put a damper on spirits and prompted students to give up on the rest of the year. Yet I eagerly walked down the halls of Arrowhead’s south campus (for freshmen and sophomores), approaching Mr. Andrew Johnson’s seventh hour English 10 classroom.

As my friend and I walked in, Mr. Johnson’s big, white smile faded and out of his mouth and I heard a sarcastic sigh. “I have you this semester? Oh boy.” A laugh emerged from my throat, and the start of a mordant semester began.

Mr. Johnson incorporated comedy into teaching, which made learning in his class more achievable. He and I have similar senses of humor, and I wasn’t afraid to throw punches back at him. This made going to class more lively and made me look forward to the class.

After working on my speech for nearly a month, I shakily take my seat after presenting, and he says, “Looking a little red there.”

Trying to conceal my embarrassment, I replied, “Looking a little bald there.” (He had just gotten a buzz cut.)

As the students in my class clamor “Oh’s”, he and I both laugh at the jokes we made.

The teasing in class made me realize I could be comfortable around Mr. Johnson and was able to ask him for help, something I was more timid to do in other classes.  

Not only does Mr. Johnson love teaching his sophomores, but he also loves to tell stories at Arrowhead’s after school conditioning club (ACC) about how is wife takes notice of small interests that he has and amplifies them to a whole new level—like when she got him Fall Out Boy tickets when he said he liked one of their songs. He is also a dedicated father and supporter, taking his son to my basketball games. Even while showing his loyalty to his family and to other students, he still found a way to coach the varsity football team and help with after school conditioning for all athletes. Mr. Johnson puts our time ahead of his own, helping kids be academically and athletically great.

While he and I joked in class, there were also times where he showed his softer side, helping those who were going through tough times or having a rough day. He offered students to come into his room or cubicle if we ever needed to talk, and I took him up on that offer, even if it was just to chat with him.

As the final days of school came approached, the sun shined through the windows, the green grass swayed in the cool wind, and students smiled, watching the clock tick down. The final bell rang and although there was an obvious rush of excitement that swept the room, there was and underlying sense of anguish. Leaving Mr. Johnson’s class was like leaving my favorite stuffed animal behind on a vacation. So, I gave one last smile to the blonde haired giant, and dejectedly walked down the same south campus hallways that I once was so eager to stroll.