Matthew Parker

My English teacher sophomore year at Cleveland High School in Portland, Oregon, was Mr. Parker. Matthew Parker was an outstanding teacher, always ready to help (and I'm sure my rowdy self didn't make his life that much easier). To be honest, I’d gotten into my fair share trouble in 8th and 9th grade. My report cards routinely noted that I “talked too much,” “didn’t follow instructions,” etc. I’d been to the office a few times, and my grades were always mediocre. Not unexpectedly, I started my sophomore year rather slowly. The first quarter parent teacher conference was especially rough. I remember my dad—rather unhappily—coming home from meeting my teachers. Apparently, I had been making teacher's lives harder than they needed to be. Mr. Parker always made it clear that he expected more from me even if it wasn't directly addressed. That I could pay more attention in class. Not talk to my friends around me, even though I made good grades in his class so far. None of my grades were especially good, but the B in one of my analytical writing assignments really hurt. I vowed to my dad that I would do better in my other classes. I did. I worked harder and tried to focus on more than being entertaining to my classmates. Mr. Parker was there every step of the way, even helping me get better in my other classes if he knew he was doing it or not. Some of my most vivid memories in Parker's English class was how absolutely obnoxious me and my friend's were (I didn't even realize it at the time) and he sat through it and treated us very nicely even though I may have been kind of a jerk towards him in class. I've never properly thanked him either. He's been such a major role model to me academically and personally, and I haven't shown or told him how excellent of a person and an educator he really is.

Miles Stone