passion

In 7th grade, I had a teacher who was involved with almost anything the school had. From sports to theater, whatever it was he was doing it. He taught American history which is normally a very boring subject, but he found ways to grab my attention and draw me into liking the history of this country. For example, I really didn't care about the American revolution until he related our freedoms today to the struggles the first Americans had. He also had us reenact a civil war battle using different "weapons" and their ability to be effective in battle. It taught us how difficult it was to fight with such primitive weapons. Something as simple as throwing a paper ball to compare a musket shot was simple but effective.

compassion

The first time I felt the compassion of one of my teachers in school was senior year. I was struggling in my advanced biology 2 class and took me aside and asked if i needed help. I had not done well in the class up to this point in the year and my grade relfected my performance. I am not the kind of person to ask for help when im not doing well, and he recognized this and was proactive in his helping me do better in a fast pace class. I met with him outside of class twice a week to review what we had covered and ask questions. Sometimes we would work together for only 20 minutes on a short night, but others i didnt leave his classroom till 530. It was not compassionate for him to spend extra time with a struggling student, but it was compassionate to recognize some one needing help and then not letting them slip by. If he had not confronted me in class then I would not have passed advanced biology 2.