I was out of town this weekend and I ran into someone who started yelling my name, trying to get my attention. He new me, but I was not familiar with him. It amazes me the people I run into away from Quincy. I told this story to a friend and he related a story back that he too was recently out of town and ran into his all-time favorite teacher from years ago. We started talking about our favorite teachers.

My favorite was Mr. Mancini at Staley Junior High School in Rome, New York.  I knew I had some artistic talent in my blood after watching my mother paint a variety of things on a canvass in our home, but it was Mr. Mancini who somehow managed to get me to exhibit it. He had a way of letting me know how I could improve on what I already thought was good. He never said “I could do better.” He just said I “should try doing it this way.” His class was fun and I looked forward to attending it every day.

It’s funny how one person can shape an attitude or even a life with just a few actions. Mr. Mancini did just that for me. No matter how old you are, everyone can remember their favorite teacher. Who was yours?