The Reason I Teach

Today is the first day back from spring break, less than ten more weeks until this school year is finished AND Greg and I move from UB. Even more importantly, we get married in about eleven and a half weeks!

Right now my class is working on their big unit called Exhibition. It is ten weeks of predominately student-guided work where small groups identify an issue, research about it then take action. This is an extremely simplified explanation but suffice to say, it is a major undertaking and quite exhausting to manage when I am not exactly in control of what five different groups of twenty students are working on at any given point. Exhibition is the most rewarding yet difficult ten weeks of teaching Grade 5, hands down.

Towards the end of a very hectic first day back, one of my students handed me a pencil case. She simply said, "this came with my new bag so I decided to give it to you." I told her thanks as we walked out the door; they were on their way to art, I was headed on an errand. A few hours later, when I was leaving school today, I picked up the case to give it a closer look and noticed something inside. I found a note and a pretty pink and white object threaded on a red cord (student had gone to Beijing for spring break).

I won't repeat the note in it's entirety here, but it made me laugh, then smile, then reflect on how blessed I am to work with kids every day. It helped me recall the days when I felt a small part of my soul die every time I 'punched in' for another shift at AT&T where I sold cell phones and text messaging plans alternatively to dissatisfied customers (yes, the coverage sucks). Or I recall the long nights of waitressing; achy feet and back, smelling like food and being treated like I was stupid by customers or the management. Being in an unsatisfying job is a bitter pill to swallow; it slowly yet surely infects every aspect of one's existence, poisoning the core of who your are.

I still have nightmares where selling phones or putting plates of food in front of people is featured prominently. While I am confident those days are behind me, I can't help but shudder at the thought of my former life. Even on my most difficult day, I am grateful for my position, grateful that I get to make a meaningful difference in a child's life. The difference may be helping a kid speak English a little better, understand long division or simply just survive adolescence. Here is an excerpt from her letter:

"It is nice to be back to school isn't it! Well as you can see, I got you a small bag or pencil case and soap. You put the soap in the bath to smell good. Not that you don't, it was just the thing that said 'this is what you need for Ms. Carroll."...Now the thank you. Thank you for the hard time I had at school. I know it is not your job (or is it) but you did it anyway, thank you....I want to be just like you when I grow up. Thank you for everything."

Now seriously, this made my day. This student is an amazing young lady; smart, articulate, kind and extremely motivated and hard working. She's the kind of person that will grow up and change the world, not because she wants the prestige or money, but because it's the right thing to do. She's had a hard time this year when a new girl, also extremely amazing in her own right, moved to Mongolia. This new girl became friends with my student's up-to-this-point, best friend. As they say, "Two's company, three's a crowd." All three girls are friendly but this student has born the brunt of losing her best friend. She has grown and learned from this process but it's been a harsh lesson in resiliency. We've had a few conversations that have quickly dissolved into heavy tears but she's been graceful and kind, showing her true spirit and grit.

The teacher in me hopes that some day, when she walks across the stage to accept her Nobel Peace Prize, some small part of her remembers her Grade 5 teacher from Mongolia.

I also appreciate that she doesn't think I stink!