Soldiers gallantly march through the forests upon the screen as I slouch in the desk and my eyelids flicker shut. Darkness falls upon me; suddenly startled, the black and white documentary
still plays.
The bell rings. I pull my binder to my chest, dragging my feet on my way to history. I dread this; I desire to skip. But it’s too late. One step in, and I cross over into History: the abyss. History is far from my favorite subject. But everything changed my eighth grade year and this is because of Mrs. Niemczyk. She is a trustworthy, eager, accepting, caring, hopeful, earnest, and rare educator.
From thrilling movies to exciting learning experiences, Mrs. Niemczyk has taught me so much about history and life. I remember when my class learned about the Revolutionary War. She slowly paced across the front of the room, and said, “Why don’t these two rows come to the front?” She excitedly explained the process to follow. Students lined up ready for battle. And I saw with my own two eyes history come to life.
Upon the screen popped a movie. Eager to learn, I sat up in my seat. I wasn’t bored reading the never ending book; I got a front row seat to the whole experience. I got the opportunity to learn the material, yet I was fascinated and able to connect. I enjoy history, and this is something I never thought I would say.
“Give everything a second chance,” my mother constantly said to me. Who would have expected this to apply to school subjects? I always thought I strongly disliked history. But I realized it was the teaching method that caused this hatred. History is actually something I am intrigued by. With a gallant stride, I walk into class and sit in the desk eagerly waiting for the bell to ring.