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I was almost 15 when I got enrolled in high school. Things never really bothered me whether it was money, place or at school. Why should they? I belonged to a royal family, and I am born royal. My childish and immature mind never let me slip from my formal state and framed me into a spoiled brat in my school. Friends treated me graciously while teachers conveyed their remarks as the most stubborn and a failure kid of all time. I was a spoiled kid but not in all subjects. I always scored fantastic marks in all other subjects except English. Whenever, my dad used to gaze down the report card, his smile abrupt and eyes get stuck on one subject prominently. As usual, same question was yelled out at me, time and again: You scored less in English. My answer: My English teacher doesn’t like me. It is always easy to blame others especially when the dad questions you! English was not my favorite subject, not because I didn’t like it. But, often it was the teacher’s attitude towards me, which demotivated my interest for the subject. Grammar and Punctuation used to turn the blue pages of my notebook into red remarks. I used to explore my work between the remarks and cross signs displayed on the pages.

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It was my first day in class tenth. It was a habitual morning, surrounded by my familiar friends and yes, as usual, classes commenced with the English class except the books were new. Oh! One more change happened that day. A new English teacher had come to teach us. So what? That didn’t inspire me to study English! Courtesy: A quick introduction to the new class, the teacher started with a new chapter and gave homework for the next class. Next day, I came to class without completing my homework. Expecting the usual treatment for not completing my homework did not made me nervous. How bad she can be? Kneel down for a whole day or being out of the class or insulting remarks would be yelled into my ears. Still puzzled within the option punishment, my English teacher came to me and asked for the homework and I nodded my head indicating that I did not do? She smiled and asked me to do it next day. I repeated my carelessness and my teacher smiled and offered me the chance repeatedly. My carelessness started to deter, and I dared to complete my homework.

Mischievous devil in me laughed and said be prepared for all bad remarks in the notebook. Well, the very next day I handed my homework. Her scrutinizing eyes went through my homework. Her eyebrows raised, and she looked at me. That’s it! I am back to square one, flashed in my mind. At the end of the class, my English teacher gave me my notebook and thanked me for completing my homework. It was strange. I knew the consequences and much aware of my mistakes. Yet, I wanted to open my notebook. At the end of the page was a “Smiley”. I don’t know what happened next! My body and soul felt light and elated. I wanted to melt in the thin air with joy! Suddenly, English seemed to be the most interesting subject and my grammar and punctuation stopped bothering me in my homework. Today, I am an active blogger and an established article writer. With each passing day, I never forget to thank my English teacher for the laurels won by me! This article is an attempt to highlight the issue of educating kids in the school. Teachers can always make a healthy change in a kid’s life!

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