First day of seventh grade I got the news that my English teacher would be out for half of the school year because she was taking care of her newborn baby Roscoe. So during the several months of struggling through English with two different substitutes, which the first one I didn't learn much except get out of her way, while the other one we made cry. Sometime around May of that year I caught a glimpse of what the rest of my school year was going to be like when I saw my real English teacher Mrs. Hatch.

At first I didn't really admired Mrs. Hatch. She was always being tough on kids especially if you missed an assignment. Hammering us on how to do transitions the right way, crushing us with spelling errors and nailing us with speeches. But that was the year I noticed I had an aptitude for writing. Mrs. Hatch work was paying off or for me at least. I soon sought for her when I needed help with my writing needs or when I wanted to perfected a paper. That year I even ran for eighth grade president and Mrs. Hatch gave me all the help and encouragement I ever needed. I was overjoyed when I found out I won. I knew I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for her helping me to prepare.

Even during my eighth grade year I always came for her on ideas for stories I write on the side. Without knowing her I wouldn't know what I would do this very day with a paper and pencil . She inspired me to reach to my highest potential and to never give up when you have talent at something. So my success was put into action thanks to my seventh grade English teacher Mrs. Hatch.