Struggling through with joy... |
kind of.
Struggling through with joy... |
The daily rush up the stairs, chiding the students to be quiet, walk carefully, all the things they need to tell me in the short time since I’ve seen them last must wait until we’re in our room. I’m tired this morning. Grouchy. Two nights of little sleep and always too much expected: two reading lessons instead of one, a math test for two grades, the next two days filled with meetings and little to no plan time. Preparing one grade for state tests, making sure the other grade is staying on track, maintaining interventions for the ones who need it most. Keeping hands washed and tables sanitized and masks up and never seeing enough of their faces. Always overwhelming, much more so this year.
I look up the stairs and see the 4th grade teachers coming down. There’s not room for me to walk next to my kids, so I say, “I’m just going to scoot in behind you, M.,” a gentle warning because he doesn’t like sudden change and close contact. He’s new, only three weeks in and already strictly adhering to our routine. If I stray one minute from our schedule he will let me know. He crosses out the questions he doesn’t want to answer, flops onto the floor if he’s overwhelmed by directions, and yells if our read aloud bores him. He’s ecstatic when he gets to be helper or wear his hat in school. He takes my hand, easy as that, let’s me in close, guides me up the stairs and into our day. I feel it, physically, in my heart. Why I put up with all the burdens of this job. All the garbage mandates and relentless reminders that I will never do enough in the eyes of the system. Why I come back, every year, 21 years now. It’s not for the insurance and summers off. It’s for this. A small warm hand in mine, the unexpected acceptance of this boy. These tiny, ineffable gifts that are woven into every teaching day.
4 Comments
3/3/2021 08:37:15 pm
How absolutely endearing! I rode this roller coaster with you! Felt your frustration. Resented the irrational unfairness. Bristled at the realities that rob you of their shining countenances...but most of all, I felt the warmth ebb through my heart that you felt in the comfort of his hand. You are right. It’s not the summers and the insurance. It’s these treasurable moments that you could never buy. #priceless
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3/3/2021 08:50:26 pm
What a touching slice! The children are what makes teaching a passionate adventure even with little sleep and a huge to do list. "I feel it, physically, in my heart", and this is where the magic starts.
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Terje
3/4/2021 01:16:20 am
This was so beautiful. Straight to the heart. These moments are precious during the first year, after twenty years and beyond.
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