This will be the first year ever, in my entire life, that I am not preparing for school to start. I silently grieve when I pass by those sharpened pencils and neatly packaged glue sticks in Target. I'm already missing the smell of a freshly waxed room and white walls. Although I'm not setting up my classroom and meeting new little faces, those sweet ones at home need me more right now. Don't worry, I'll be teaching this year, It'll just look a little different. More like, "We don't hit our brother," or "Remember to flush the potty."
I can't help myself. I've already been in my friends' classrooms helping them get everything just right for their new students. And I can't stop thinking about all the communities of learners that will be made in a few short days. Teacher friends, I'm praying for you as you sacrifice time with your children to teach someone else's. I'm praying that you will be a mama to a little heart this year that needs one. What you do is a calling. You are changing lives. Forever.
I wrote this at the beginning of last school year and hope these words speak truth over you as you begin a new year.
My principal emailed me last week and said she added another student to my roster. "But come talk to me when you get a chance. I have to tell you her story." And I replied, "You know I love kids with stories!"
Rewind seven years.
I was a first year teacher. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, convinced I was going to implement everything I had learned in school and saw on Pinterest perfectly. It didn't take long to realize the goal of the year was to survive. And not let the children kill each other.
And let's talk about this for a minute. Why in all of God's green earth, do they give first year teacher's THE. WORST. CLASSES? For the life of me I will never understand it. Thinking back, regardless of my inexperienced classroom management, that class would have sent the most experienced teacher to her grave. It was hard.