In case you didn't know, I went to a small redneck high school known as PCHS: Pike County where everyone knows everyone's business. You go to school with the same people from kindergarten to graduation and you see the same teachers every day. Some you like, some you don't, some are just there to teach you and you move on. Then, there's the few and far between who you get down on one knee for on Valentine’s Day in the middle of the hallway. That teacher for me is Laura Douglas.

Those of you who went to a bigger school probably think it's weird for us to be so close to our teachers in high school, and that's totally understandable. It is weird. But that didn't stop me from having a relationship with my teacher. The best part about it is that Mrs. Douglas was always a teacher first. She does her job and she's GOOD AT IT. If you know her and have had her in class, then you know this to be true.

Outside of her teaching, she is one of the most sarcastic people I know, which I absolutely adore. She always yelled and insulted us like she somehow had the authority to do that, but deep down we knew she really cared for each of her students.

I needed help with my essays once (or more than once) and she sat down with me after school and said, "Look, Ashley, this is what you did. It is not correct or good enough. This is how you do it. Let's talk through it." And that's what we did. Mrs. Douglas taught me how to think and explain myself rather than just giving me the answer. Not only did she care about my academic ability, she cared about HOW she presented herself to me. She was professional when she needed to be and joked when it was appropriate.

So thank you, Laura Douglas, for letting me call you Laura even though you hated it. Thank you for teaching me before letting me sit behind your desk and eat your leftovers from lunch. Thank you for helping me lead student council and working with my outlandish ideas. Thank you for letting me in school and dragging me back to your room. Thank you for taking pictures with me and all the times you let me sit in your room no matter the time of day.

Most importantly, thank you for making an impact on my life. Thank you for being the crafty, Disney World and minion-loving person you are. I appreciate being able to text you even now, two years after graduation, about anything. From Taco Bell hot sauce packets, to Bitmojis, to analyzing a short story.

I hope you read this and pick apart every grammatical error I made, but at least you won’t notice any misspellings. Love you, Doug.