Imagine walking into your band room at the beginning of your eighth grade year. One of your favorite teachers in the world, Mr. Virtue, who was one of the nicest, funniest people you’ve ever met, retired from teaching band. No one knows ANYTHING about the new teacher, and you’re half excited, half weary to meet him or her.

Then, when you walk in, you’re stunned to see a young, pretty, blonde woman standing there, smiling. You stare in shock, not believing that almost the complete and utter opposite of the older Mr. Virtue is going to be your band teacher. It’s hard to comprehend.

At first, I didn’t know what to think about Miss Hill. She was only in her mid-twenties, and she was very happy and optimistic most of the time. Eventually, I grew to like her, and it would occasionally go on and off. But, now that the year’s almost over, I have plenty of reasons for the young, vibrant Miss Hill to be recognized.

She wasn’t perfect. She still isn’t perfect. In fact, at the beginning of the year, she could hardly control her class. Everyone, including me, disrespected her and ignored her when she told us to quiet down and pay attention. She got very emotional very easily, and sometimes, it even seemed like she was going to cry.

Then, one day, as she was slowly growing in her controlling ability, she did the unthinkable. She told the rudest, meanest kid in the class to go to the office. We were stunned that she had finally done it, and she even seemed proud of herself. Now, she still has a little trouble getting everyone’s attention, but we all have slowly been learning to respect her and listen to her. She even went out of her way to help my friends and I record something for a contest, and it had nothing to do with band!

Now, why, you might be asking, would I nominate someone like this to be educator of the year. Miss Hill reminded us, without trying, of something no other teacher has really shown us: that everyone has imperfections. Deep down, she’s still a bit of a kid, and she laughs at the jokes that we tell in class. But through her learning for herself about classroom and teenage behavior, she’s taught me that it’s okay to be imperfect. That it’s okay to not do everything right, and then learn from your mistakes. Because that’s exactly what she did, and even though others might disagree, I believe she needs recognized for showing everyone that.

Overall, Miss Hill is a funny, kind, slightly childish, struggling teacher. But she’s learning, and she has taught us all that we should do the same. She made mistakes, and sometimes still does, but she realizes them and makes the best out of them. And, most of all, she taught us that, even though some might not seem like they are, even teachers are human. Hopefully, you’ll look at your teachers through open eyes after reading this. I know after meeting Miss Hill, I have.