The way I see it, there are two kinds of educators. Most of them are people who teach. Anyone who has attended school knows what I’m talking about: these are the men and women whose job begins at 7:30 a.m. and ends when the bell rings at 2:15. Teaching is a profession, an obligation, a means to put food on the table each night. Not a lifestyle.

The rare few, however, are teachers. These are the people kids remember, send cards to, visit after they have graduated. For them, teaching is not something to be hung on the coat rack when they get home at night. Teaching is a way of life. These inspiring educators have the power to do more than tell a class how to add two and two; they can change lives.

Ms. Friesland is a teacher. Her official position is Advanced Language Arts, but all her students know that she teaches a much broader subject: Life. Never once did I walk into her classroom knowing what to expect, just like I never wake up in the morning knowing what the day will bring. Would we practice our vocabulary by throwing a light-up sheep toy around the room? Would we get up and stand by different walls and then advocate for our positions in a discussion? Would we make predictions about our current novel by writing on balloons and then popping them as they are proved false? Would we compete in our table teams for the most points (and the elusive Lemon Head treat) in Think-Links? Or maybe class would start with an open-ended journal prompt on the board: “If I could redo last week …” “One time I just wanted to …” or “Update on me.” All I could do was bring my pen and an open mind.

She injected an energy into reading and writing that was so contagious and heartfelt that my class couldn’t help but join in. I can say with full confidence that students who spend 60 minutes of their day with Ms. Friesland find themselves more impassioned, driven, and confident.

My favorite memories of middle school took place in her room, and the people I shared those moments with still talk about all the good times. The best part was that somehow, while sheep were thrown and balloons popped and tears of hysterical laughter shed, I learned more about myself and the world around me than I ever had sitting at a desk and taking notes on a lecture.

What sets her apart, you see, is her passion – not just for her subject but for her students. She actually cares. It’s such a simple thing, but so rare and so, so valuable. When I first walked into her classroom in sixth grade, I was struggling to find my voice. I was an avid reader and writer but found it very challenging, even terrifying, to express myself. I was scared to say no to anything for fear that people wouldn’t like me.

One day on a whim, I wrote in my journal about how I didn’t know how to change this about myself. Afterwards I was embarrassed; I’d never shared anything so personal with a teacher before. Who was I to burden her with my petty problems? Later that week, I stayed after school to make up a quiz. When I handed it to her and turned to leave, she patted a stool by her desk and told me to have a seat.

“What I see in you is what you see in yourself,” she said. My face flushed; I knew immediately what she was talking about. At first I felt awkward and timid as I always did, but after a few minutes what she was saying sunk in and tears came to my eyes. She was really talking to me. She told me that she cried when she found out she was having another daughter. She explained that in her years of teaching she has seen how kids interact and how the quiet ones fare compared to the outgoing. And then she told me that she had a mission: we were going to my find my voice.

It has been three years since that conversation, but I remember every word. Now here I am, a freshman in high school. I am my own person with my own opinions, and people can take them or leave them. I know now that true friends will accept and love me for everything that makes me, me. I owe so much to her. Nothing I ever write can fully repay her or tell her how great an impact she has had on my life, but being recognized as an Educator of the Year might come close.

After all, there are two types of educators. Ms. Friesland is a teacher.