John Fitzsimmons is a really cool guy. Fitz is one of the best teachers at fenn, and he had a significant impact on my life. He taught me how to read, write, speak and play guitar; I would be a completely different person without him. When I learned that Fitz was going to be my English teacher right after the eighth grade graduation, I was not happy at all. I thought to myself: “This is great, I’m going to spend my next year learning English from some grumpy old guy who thinks he can speak Chinese,” but I was proven to be wrong. After I got to know him better, I found out that he’s not bad at all and he did actually speak Chinese. Mr. Fitzsimmons is as funny as Jerry Seinfeld and his stories are as deep as the epic tales of Moby Dick, by Herman Melville. He cares about his students so much that he would spill a cup of hot boiling black coffee on his shiny wooden table just to get his points across. My journey with Fitz, however, was not all sunshine and rainbows, there were a few times where he was frustrated with what we were doing. If I ever angered him, he would not say a word, but instead he would look me deep in the eyes and stare deep into my soul, leaving me to beg for forgiveness. Fitz always had endless stories to entertain us with, though they may not be true all the time, he shall not let the truth get in a way of a good story. Each one of these profound stories had a deeper meaning, and they taught me the secrets of life. Without Fitz, I would be lost, like the lonely moon that drifts across the seas.