I just got word that one of my favorite teachers from high school (Hampton Roads Academy) is retiring. I wrote a little essay for him-- that I'd like to share with our viewers.

It’s funny when you look back on high school— I’m astounded at just how vivid my memories are. I can actually conjure up the scent of the brand new auditorium—(now 18 years old!!) and hear the bell ring at 8:15am. I remember getting in trouble for writing notes in class, but feeling it was imperative for me to write them.

What were they about? That, I can’t answer.

I remember finding history fascinating—because the man who taught me was unlike any other teacher I have ever known.

To date, Mr. Cunningham remains the most engaging teacher I have ever had.
I can still have a knowledgeable debate about Woodrow Wilson and his 14 points because of what I learned in AP History. But his legacy is more far-reaching than that.

We the class of 1992 felt a special bond with Mr. Cunningham. I still think of him as ours—perhaps because we followed him through the years.

From 8th grade on, he was so much more than our History teacher.
Larry Cunningham was our mentor, our friend and our rock.

His was the office where we all felt welcome. And this was years before we were allowed in the Senior lounge. A few years later—when I’d been suspended from school and thought my world was crumbling around me (a little melodramatic but this is a 17 year old girl’s perspective)— I still found comfort in Mr. Cunningham’s office, and in his words. He promised me better days ahead—and knew enough about me to say something encouraging when I really needed it.
He was right. And he was right about so much.

Teachers—the really great ones, do so much more than stand at the head of the class.
They help mold us into the adults we will become. They help us figure out who we are so we can navigate our way into the great unknown.

So Mr. Cunningham, your legacy remains in each and every one of us.
You have touched so many lives— and we are better for it.

I still have a hard time believing it has been sixteen years now since I walked those halls on a regular basis. When I close my eyes every now and then, I find myself transported back to HRA. And whenever I’m there, I see you there, too.