This time of year is always bittersweet for me. I love the lazy days of summer. No schedule. No alarm set. Slow quiet mornings sipping coffee contemplating the biggest decision of the day – which bathing suit to wear for another day by the pool. But as much as I enjoy sweet summertime, by the time August rolls around, I am ready for routine. As a child, the start of a new school year was so exciting to me. And it still is as an adult. The newness of everything feels so good. As a teacher, it is the prospect of 50 new little lives that I get to watch grow, pour into and love on.
I have worked non-stop since the first of August getting ready for this brand new school year. Countless hours have been spent setting up my classroom with a new look for the year. Name tags and lists. Materials and labels. Pencils and copies. It has all consumed me for the days and weeks leading up to the first day of school.
The first day has come and gone and I have enjoyed each moment getting to know all 50 of my students (25 in my homeroom, and 25 in my teaching partners room). I often have to tell myself that this part just takes time. I want to get to know their strengths and weaknesses, their personalities, their fears, and their interests. I want to know how they each learn best so that I can help them each grow to their full potential in the 177 days that I have them to teach.
Each year, each new group is so very different from the one before. I am loving the eagerness of this group of kids to learn. They are not afraid to try the hard things and already seem to feel safe enough in our little classroom family to make mistakes. They are helpers, jumping in to help a classmate who is struggling. They are storytellers, rushing into the room to share news of a new pet or football game. They are dreamers, talking of future careers as paleontologists and veterinarians. My desire is to foster all of this in all of them each and every day.
The responsibility of teaching and growing these little minds is not a burden, but rather one of the greatest blessings I could imagine. In my room I have an “I Wish My Teacher Knew…” jar. I encourage students to leave me a note about the things that they would like to share with me but are maybe not ready to say to my face. The first few days of school the jar would be full of little notes saying “You’re the best teacher,” or “I love school.” But it was on day four that a lone note in that jar reminded me just how important this responsibility is. This note said “I wish my teacher knew that I am dum.” I saved that note. I have not stopped thinking about those words. They have kept me awake at night. I think about them as I am preparing lessons and activities. I am thinking about them when I pray each morning before my students arrive. I will carry those words with me every day this school year. They will be the force that pushes me to do anything and everything I can for this group of students.
I have always believed that relationships come first in my classroom. I tell my students – my kids – that I love them. I listen to them. I hug them. I shower them with positive affirmations. Relationships before tasks. I firmly believe that if a student feels loved and safe, they are more willing to open up and take chances in their learning. My prayer is for each one of my students to believe in themselves and in their abilities.
And by the end of our time together I hope that they can say “I wish my teacher knew that I feel loved…”