Alarm Clock Observation

My alarm clock sounded, I opened my eyes, and sophomore year of high school began. I accomplished the Herculean effort of dragging myself to the shower, completed my routine, and drove to my high school. The first three classes ended and my teachers and the subjects they taught began the morning perfectly. I arrived at my fourth period history class which included a new teacher named Jordan Thompson and the drama that came with him. Whenever a new teacher began at my high school, gossip fills the school. Mr. Thompson recently graduated from Union University in 2010 and from my high school in 2006. He walked in the class as fast as a lightning strike and began his lecture with an assertive tone which disturbed me more than my alarm clock hours …show more content…
Thompson was trapped, imprisoned by himself. The stoic and grim teaching style was only an act. Mr. Thompson was not who the sophomore class thought he was. The strict behaviour was rooted in insecurities due to being a new teacher. In addition to the insecurities, Mr. Thompson had an ideal classroom setting in mind on the first day. His ideal classroom had a teacher which all students feared and respected, but this setting did not fit Mr. Thompson’s natural teaching identity. By laughing a little, Mr. Thompson took off the costume and walked off the stage in that moment. He quit pretending to be the teacher he was …show more content…
I finished breakfast, got into my car, and walked into Mr. Thompson’s history class for the last time. I sat down and Mr. Thompson handed me a weighty stapled set of papers which was the final exam. I began a lengthy exam overflowing with information that I knew well due to Mr. Thompson’s new teaching methods from throughout the year. I flew through the exam, finished, turned in the history exam with thirty minutes remaining, and sat back down to wait for the bell. A reflection of the year’s greatest moments hit me like a bullet to the heart. Summer’s arrival, which initially seemed the only sweet escape from the oppression, now seemed sour. The history rollercoaster ride of emotions ended, and I hesitate to exit the cart. The school bell sounded and the time came. I got out of my seat, thanked Mr. Thompson for a great year and a wonderful ride, and proceeded to the exit. The man whose first impression disturbed me, now stood as one of the best teachers to have guided me in my pursuit of a higher