Yo, Teach ...
I've been thinking about childhood teachers lately--another side effect of my facebook addiction--and I am amazed at how long their memories are. At a book signing last year, my 1st grade teacher came and said hello. She looked older, but otherwise much like I remembered, and she remembered teaching me 25 years before. My 4th grade teacher recently relayed through her daughter that she had fond memories of me, and a few months ago when I ran into my high school english teacher she recognized me right off and wasn't surprised in the least when I said I was a writer.
Now, this can all be chalked up to good acting or polite conversation. I prefer to think that teachers see and remember everything and so it's best not to piss them off.
They are the first people other than our parents to see our potential. One could argue that they are a better judge of said potential because there're no preconceived goals to interfere with their assessment. They are excellent judges of character for that reason, as well; years of seeing what their students become have honed their instincts to a sharp point.
They see us when we win a race or color the best picture or know our multiplication tables first. They see us with skinned knees and cracked glasses and broken hearts. They congratulate us when we win and help us when we lose.
Are there bad teachers? Of course. But the good ones more than make up for them. For all the teachers out there, the ones that discipline and teach and listen and advise and inspire ... thanks.