This is for the people I never thanked; the people I've had a love-hate relationship with; those who, in the ened, gave me wings: my teachers.
Yes, some were a royal pain at times, but many went the extra mile.
Like the one who engaged even the quietest among us into classroom discussions with his motto: "Silence is stupid."
To him, nothing we said was ever silly -- only keeping quiet was. Everything we said became a platform for thought and analysis. And he was there to teach us not to regurgitate facts, but to learn how to learn.
This is also for those who are in the profession now, who went into it because they were idealistic enough to want to make a difference.
People like 23-year-old Wei Qiu, who started teaching Chinese at a neighbourhood school in the East Coast because she wanted to make her students passionate about Chinese the way she is -- or at least stir their interest in it.
"A lot of people think they can only be good at one language, and English is considered more important right now," said Wei Qiu, who is fully bilingual.
"If I can get them to relate to me, maybe I can become a role model, a living example of something that is possible. Why should they write off Chinese? It's part of their heritage and culture.
"And while I want to have their respect, I also want to be their friend, someone they come to when they're sad," said Wei Qiu, whose petite form and un-made-up hair make her look like she could well be in a school uniform.
More than passing exams, she wants her students to grow up with integrity, ideals and values.
Some things that leave a bad taste in her mouth: good students becoming arrogant and believing that they deserve only the best; children who spend money on frills like fast-food when their parents cannot afford it.
In a National Day observance ceremony earlier this month, Education Minister Lee Yock Suan said that more people have applied to be teachers this year compared to last year. The draw: higher salaries, better promotion prospects and a better image of teachers.
Still, being a good teacher is probably more difficult now than it ever was. Indiscipline in schools is grabbing the media headlines, parents seem to have abdicated much of their child-rearing responsibility to the school, and teachers go home at night to ring up parents or students to counsel them. "I wish teachers had more recognition," said a friend who has taught economics for more than five years at a junior college.
"It's really discouraging when parents defend their kids all the time. It's difficult to maintain discipline when parents think their kids are right all the time. That means teachers are losing their credibility, respect and status."
And he has another worry: When he sees his economics cohorts get ahead in career and pay, he wonders if he has made the right choice.
Still, he and Wei Qiu want to do their best to work within the limitations they face. They, and others, care enough to try to reach sometimes unreachable students.
There was a principal of a school in a low-income neighbourhood who, instead of punishing a student who always came in late, gave him an alarm clock because the student could not afford to buy one.
There are those who buy quietly textbooks and uniforms for poorer students because their parents cannot afford them. And there are others who spend their own time helping and tutoring weak students whose parents have already written them off.
Mr Eugene Wijeysingha, former head of Raffles Institution, at a recent public forum, showed how important it was that a teacher is seen to care.
He recalled a boy who was called to his office, twice, for having hair that was overly long. As he was leaving the office after being told to get a haircut, Mr Wijeysingha asked if there was anything troubling him.
Out poured a litany of family problems: The boy's parents were barely speaking to one another, his mother took two jobs just so she would not have to come home and see her husband; they were staying together only for the children.
A haircut must have been the last thing on his mind, Mr Wijeysingha said.
What would have happened if the boy had been punished harshly straightaway, before anyone bothered to find out the reason behind his seeming disrespect for authority?
Getting into a student's mind might be a little easier for Li Lin, who, at 30, has taught General Paper for six years. It helps when she sees her students almost every day, and that her classes are based, in large part, on discussion.
"I try to pose controversial questions, and it helps generate discussion," she said. "We talk about issues like abuse, environment, pain and hurt, even eating disorders, and what they feel and think about those matters."
In the meantime, there are the tell-tale clues alerting her to teens who have a load of personal problems behind them: students who are moody, slackening, quietly defiant. "Then I probe, have a chat with them and I realise that some of them have a lot on their minds.
"It sounds idealistic, I know, but I believe in what I'm doing: trying to help them understand their self-worth, to form and substantiate their opinions, to think and to realise that there's more to life than passing exams. I want them to be happy, and to live life to the fullest."
So, for Teachers Day, which falls on Sept 1 this year, I'd like to thank the teachers who believed in me even when I didn't, like Wei Qiu and Li Lin do their students; those who showed me that there was more to me than my grades, who instilled in me a thirst for knowledge, who taught me that learning goes on long after school is over.
Thank you. And happy Teachers Day.