I've had a lot of teachers.
(I'm eliminating from this competition anyone who doesn't formally have the title of "teacher;" otherwise family, strangers, and friends make it impossible to choose a favorite. We learn from everyone, don't we?)
Mrs. D in fifth grade taught us about kindness, disco, and the names of all the major bones in the human body.
Mr. R in junior high school history made seemingly offensive, but actually rather progressive comments about race and culture. I think about it often.
Mrs. N, also in junior high, was the first to acknowledge that a person may have a shy temperment in a classroom setting. It was remarkably empowering.
Mrs. F in high school and Mrs. J in sixth grade were the one-two punch in history skillz. I can trace so much of my practical world knowledge back to their classrooms.
Professor O in undergrad, who reminded me of Mr. Bean, taught calculus with such pure adrenalin and excitement that I didn't mind the absurd 8am start time.
Professor T, also in undergrad, my first advisor in my major, allowed for thoughtful expression in such a gentle way. She made a comment once about artists being those who lived their truest selves, and I loved that I had met someone who lived her truest self.
Dr. T in medical school had an ease with complex neuroanatomy, an ease that was contagious. Remember gross anatomy lab? The scissors that could pinpoint anything?
And now, I still learn from teachers. How lucky that my job (profession? career?) is so full of daily learning. For this, I'm grateful.