Mr. Nerad

The piercing ring of the school bell resonated throughout the concrete-walled classroom of my first period class of my 8th grade year. My tall, lanky legs struck the carpeted floor as I got out of my too-small desk and timidly walked to my next classroom. A short, robust man with a bright orange and pink tie and a Santa Claus beard greeted me with a high-five as I shyly walked through the green door. His eagerness brought a smile to my frightened face. History, a subject that I had never given a second thought to, came to life that year through Mr. Nerad.
He was such a warm character, and his passion for teaching was evident through his way of teaching. A dull lecture was not his style as it had been of most of my past teachers. I will never forget the day he walked into our classroom on President's Day, with a grey, powdery wig covering his short, brown hair. An old-timey black business suit with an antique gold tie hung on his short body. "Good morning, everyone. My name is George Washington, the first president of the United States." He gave his entire lecture in character. These sort of stunts occurred quite occasionally in Mr. Nerad's class; he never missed a beat in entertaining us while providing us with a wonderful grasp of our country's history.
In his class, I learned the impact of history on our world today. It was no longer a subject to learn, memorize and regurgitate on an exam. Through his insightful lectures, his intriguing projects and his incredible leadership, he presented history as something to learn, to analyze and to love. I will never forget this man; he grew to be not only a teacher, but a friend and mentor. For the remainder of my middle school years, I went to him for help with school and with life in general. Teachers like him are the ones that make my educational experience so memorable and so meaningful. I am forever grateful for his encouragement, friendship and guidance.