Dear Mr. Bozzone,
It is always the duty of a good teacher to do his or her best to reach their students, to help them improve themselves and to influence them in such a way that they become better versions of themselves. One always hopes to attract the interest of the student, to engage them and to bring out passion in them for the subject that one teaches. Yet, a teacher always knows that this desire is impossible. There are always those that fall between the cracks, get lost inside, and perish in the crevasse. It is the duty of the teacher to recognize this and move forward.
Some teachers do this exceptionally well, rating their students justly, without deliberation, harshly if need be. This stance does work, if not perfectly, at the very least adeptly. Here in Schreiber High School, we pupils are spoiled by the degree and calibre of the teachers and staff who work at improving our minds and characters. They work hard to achieve this end, employing intimacy and mutual feedback. It is always sad to see one of these great people depart.
Not everyone deserves a great goodbye, nor does everyone who deserves one get one. Knowing this, we at Schreiber decided to continue our yearly tradition of giving a last goodbye and a last thank you to those who depart us to enjoy their lives, away from the bustle of this building.
For your genius of explanation and teaching, for your delightful humor and sarcasm, for simply being there and offering your help, I salute you, Mr. Bozzone. You have managed to emulate the statistic theorems you taught us and infinitely amuse and enlighten us. I speak for those of us you reached. For being a student who thought that mathematics would forever be a corrosive acid to his skull. You took me in the wake of my past failures and shortcomings and improved me. You reached me and many others from beneath the ice we fell through. I, and those you saved from academic self-destruction, are in gratitude to you. I and those you taught wish you a great retirement, Mr. Bozzone. We will miss your humor.
Sincerely,
Diego Mirasol