Education is a tricky business. Either you love being a part of it or are anxiously awaiting getting the hell out. I guess some people fall in the middle, but lately it seems more like an all or nothing situation.
I for one, fall into the first group. I love LOVE what I do. I’m the weirdo who doesn’t love long breaks from school. I derive a lot of my energy from being around people doing what I love. When I’m home for too long I overthink every choice I’ve ever made, every mistake I’ve made, every person I’ve ever lost and everything I’ve never done and that’s a recipe for the depresso. I’m usually good for a couple days off where I can enjoy my friends and family, go to dance, and take some naps. Then I’m ready to be back with my babies.
On my first couple days back with kids this week, it’s been a whirlwind of fun, emotional kids, smiles, hugs, fresh sets of nails, allll the new shoes and outfits, and stories about their break. The first sweetie first grader I saw yesterday came up to me with the quickness. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and long hair and smiled the biggest toothless smile. She hugged me so tight and just giggled with happiness. She said MIS ACONVILLE!! How was your break?! I melted into a puddle. She had no idea that breaks are hard for me and Christmas is my hardest holiday to endure. She hugged me and listened while I told her it was hard, but that I was happy I got to see my family and have some naps. The simple act of her listening to me moved me greatly. It was so kind of her. In my almost puddle like state I totally forgot to ask her about her break. I hope she didn’t notice.
When I’ve started my last two days of classes, I’ve been very intentional with what I say and how I talk about the break we just had. Many kids have wonderful breaks. So many more do not. Some have sad home lives, some were sick, some experienced loss. Some kids have the moms who make the magic. They have the elf, go do all the Christmas activities, see all the parks and light shows. Many simply do not have that. In knowing this, I purposefully tell my story so kids know that everyone’s families are different, celebrate differently, can be either happy or sad or disappointing, and all of that is OKAY. I tell them that sometimes adults struggle during breaks too. This leads to some great and sometimes not so great conversations. I’m beyond blessed I’m in the position they trust me with their stories. I have heard everything you can imagine in the last two days. I’ve heard heartbreaking stories about family dramas, stories of fun trips to Great Wolf (I’m totally jelly!), lots of excitement over what Santa brought them, and how much fun they had with their families. I heard about their granny’s good cooking, about visiting cousins, and having sleepovers. I’ve admired every new outfit and pair of shoes. I wish I had these kids’ shoe budgets!
This is only part of the joy of my job. In the classroom, I fancy myself a great actor, storyteller, giver of knowledge. I can take any story and turn it into a lesson. Good lord it’s so much fucking fun! Troy likes to tell people that I play with kids all day. That’s mostly true but honestly that’s just the icing on the cake of my days. The greatest joy is hearing kids remember past lessons, grow in their resilience, be able to listen and follow directions, solve conflicts, work together, and be kind to one another. My sole purpose in my room is to build kids up. Teach the critical thinking skills they need, give them what they don’t always get at home or in the classroom, listen to them, have fun with them, and give them space to be kids and relax for 45 minutes a day. When you build that culture, that relationship, kids will usually move heaven and earth for you. Then they really start learning.
How many professions can you think of that build every other profession? How many people have the privilege to be a pivotal person for a kid? Is it a hard job? Sometimes. It was hard for me at a lot of points in my career. But, I’ve done the hard work of classroom instruction, parent interactions, curriculum planning, grading, and god forsaken lesson plans. Now my job is fairly easy for me, but I feel like I did the groundwork and I’ve earned my place being the fun auntie of Appomattox Primary School.
Am I the luckiest girl in the school? DUH. of course I am! Am I grateful for this blessing that is being an educator? Also DUH. When you find what moves you, you will always feel like the winner of the lotto. The difference is my lotto winnings pay out in hugs, a plethora of drawings, many smiles and giggles, lightbulb moments, and the odd gift of rocks and beads (see also: The Little Jar of Treasures post from last year).
What more could I ask for?
