Since I was in kindergarten, I’ve known I love animals. I announced I would be a veterinarian, and still hold that goal today. As I grew, I naturally started learning more about science, and about nature. While I was a good student, I didn’t know that much about the world. I knew endless facts about animals, but I knew almost nothing about myself. It wasn’t until seventh grade in Merton middle school, when I met my science teacher, Mr. Wagner, that I started to open my eyes.

Mr. Wagner now teaches other subjects, but in 7th and 8th grade he was my science teacher. Yet, he was also more. He was a mentor, and friend of every student. Even my classmates who despised science would be happy in his class, because he made every bad grade seem like an opportunity rather than a failure. Mr. Wagner was proud to be himself, and inspired others to be the same.

Often, he would take a large part of our class time to pull our chairs into a circle, shoving the tables to the sides of the room so that everyone could fit. He made one person stand in the center, and randomly called on others to join them. They would each exchange compliments, and he required they cannot be about physical appearance. We would compliment each other on our hard work, the positive things we noticed that people might think go ignored, and it brought us together. It made us closer, and helped us grow as people to notice more than a pretty face or expensive shoes. I believe Mr. Wagner was so loved because he knew the value of teaching rather than instructing, and it was clear through everything he taught me.

Mr. Wagner had a record player in his room, well-known and remembered by any student lucky enough to have him. He would play records of songs from any decade, and help us find the meaning in them, or simply to give us exposure. I still remember the first song he played for us was Uncle John’s Band by Grateful Dead. After the songs ended and students were awakened from their trance, he would invite us to look deeper into the lyrics, and see it as more than just sounds that entertain us. In middle school, I never listened to music besides what was on the radio or the next pop song without meaning. It wasn’t until he showed me the power of music that I developed a taste of my own. I started discovering artists, found art in their songs, and revealed what genres made me feel whole. I wouldn’t have discovered the importance of music if Mr. Wagner had not taught it to me.

He had a love for teaching, which was obvious as he spent the majority of the school day smiling. He was passionate about science, and passionate about giving his students more than factual education. Yet, as he taught me about thermodynamics and the periodic table, I couldn’t help but soak it all in like a sponge. I knew I loved animals and nature, but I didn’t realize how science could fascinate me and fill a void that lay in my stomach for years prior. Mr. Wagner nurtured my passion for science because his own was infectious—a thrilling, contagious drive to learn more. He helped me discover my purpose and the aim for my life. Mr. Wagner may have taught me how to love school, or I suppose he may have simply shown me why I should.