It's 6:15 and I should be doing lots of things. Laying out Jude's clothes for school. Getting myself dressed. Starting ahead on breakfast so that when the wee ones get up, I won't have that scrambling to do (I love unintentional puns).
I don't complain about Mondays. I teach kindergarten. I am entrusted with stimulating the learning and creativity of 20 4-6 year olds. We learn letters! We learn about number 5! We sing and play and write and solve conflicts. It's very gratifying.
It's not always perfect, and I have inevitable moments of impatience and irritation. What inspires me are two (actually, four) people: Mrs. Van Woezik, my own kindergarten teacher (who I loved partly because her name rhymed with "music"); her voice was soft, she smiled a lot, and she had pretty eyes. Add to that these three little people who will go out into the care of other adults in the next few years. I strive to respect and cherish my students the way I hope my own children are respected and cherished. "Love" is a word that may seem too strong for use in a school system (and there's NO hugging allowed). But there is love in my classroom. It's the love of a teacher for her students, an adult for the children in her community, and the love of a mother for her own children. And just so you know, I do give hugs when asked.
Margot in pigtails for the first time...moving too quick for me to focus.
Violet at bedtime, saying "What about me?" when she saw the camera in my hand! What about her, indeed.
And Jude, putting off the inevitable moment of having to go to bed after his birthday weekend. He was on a dinosaur adventure...see his protective (St. Patrick's Day?) googles, and his feather duster weapon? Here he explains to me how to find the dinosaurs, and what to do with them. The weapon, it turns out, was not for harming or killing the dinos. Just for tickling them.
What teacher do you remember with love, and why?