We lived a very normal life, my mother was a teacher for 25 years, my father was an engineer.
Although I hope to follow in my teacher's footsteps, my path for now is blocked by the uncertainty of living far from home, by a war that has driven me here, by tuition costs in Jordan that are prohibitively expensive.
My high school business teacher had recommended me for a position as a part-time receptionist at the medical clinic in the small community where I attended high school.
For me, one of those people was my fifth-grade teacher, Ms. Mabel Hefty.
When I was at university and doing my gold, I organised a sports day for special schoolchildren with another teacher.
As part of my report for the Today programme I'm also speaking to a teacher at another school who is worried that technology is a distraction rather than an aid for pupils in her English literature lessons.
I've gone up in a hot-air balloon, traveled extensively, worked for good causes in my church and taught hundreds of children to read during my 23-plus-year career as a special education teacher for Massachusetts public schools.
Oh, and if you want to know how effective I am as a teacher, here is a simple metric- walk into my classroom and sit down for an hour or so.
Ellie's teacher is the kind of smart and strong young woman I want as a role model for my daughter (she's also a really snappy dresser), and I know she was only trying to make the transition moment special for each student.
As I reflect on my years as a bilingual teacher, the heart of our success lies in a spirit of collaboration for the common goal of biliteracy and success for all students.
My teacher was a deeply tanned fellow named Aryeh, who told me he one day hoped to compete for the Israeli Olympic team. (I thought of him four years later, when Gal Fridman's Athens windsurfing victory landed Israel its first-ever Olympic gold).
The awareness of pace I owe to my teacher has served me whether I am seeking the world's highest summits, sharing my love for the mountains with others or kneeling to look my son, Gus, in the eye when he has a question.
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