In seventh grade, I met Mr. Darksen. He was a tall, thin, light-skinned man with a receding hairline and a mustache; his appearance alone put a smile across my face. As class started, I sat down by my friends, and Mr. Darksen read names off of the attendance list…and botched almost everyone's name. The class burst out with laughter.

He was smart. It could have been my ignorant seventh-grade mind but Mr. D was one of the smartest guys I knew. He was like my guide through middle school. Back then, school wasn't easy for me and I struggled in my classes. He’s the one person I felt comfortable going to. Throughout the year, I asked him thousands of questions, some school related, and others personal. For every question, I asked he gave me an answer that helped. The times he appeared stumped on a question, he’d look down and scratch the stubble across his face then look back up to me and say, “huh... I don't know.” I appreciated his honesty.

He was respectful. I question why I admired that man, and looking back I realized it was because he made me feel equal. More than 20 years separated us in age, but he never spoke to me like a child. He was not only kind to me, but he was also the type of guy I felt comfortable being around.

He was a true friend. No matter how many times I reminded myself he was a teacher I couldn't view him as such. Our relationship was more than a teacher and a student. We felt like friends. On a daily basis, he would say, “Come on now, you know you shouldn’t be doing that.”  

As I look back, Mr. Darksen acted more like an uncle. The uncle that can be playful and lets you get away with stuff but also serious enough to drop wisdom on life.

To my old friend, my teacher, and my guide in life, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for being there when I needed you and for being a friend. Thank you for your intellectual sayings, and thank you for your thoughtful words I can still hear filling my head.