Bayou

Bayou

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

A Letter to My Former Teachers

Dear Former Teachers,

The thing is, until two months ago, I thought I understood. Until two months ago, I truly believed I knew just how hard teachers work. After all, my mom was a teacher through my high school years and I knew all about the late nights and working weekends because I had witnessed them in my living room. I knew about the days teachers stayed until 6 pm because sometimes I was right there with her, plugging away at my homework in her classroom while she plugged away at hers. I was there at the summer picnics with her students and their families and I remember every single IEP season and the accompanying piles of paperwork like they just ended yesterday. So I reasoned, if there was anyone who knew how hard teachers work, it was me.

Then, I had my first impassioned debate on whether a particular procedure should be done "silently" or "quietly" and my long held belief that I got it came crashing down. I may have picked up on the amount of time put in to teaching, but I never really picked up on the amount of thought put in. I may have witnessed the long hours teachers at my high school spent on everything, but I completely missed the intention they put into every single detail about their classes. It turns out that I knew how long teachers work; I didn't have a clue how hard they work.

Now, here I sit, agonizing over the procedure for entering my classroom, and all I feel is the overwhelming desire to say "thank you."

To my teachers, at every level, thank you. Thank you for all the time you spent on all the things we never noticed. Thank you for setting up the missed class station for absences and for lining up your posters so they were even and not crooked and posting the objective every day. Thank you for making us practice how to line up for lunch and for buying a special stamp to approve our papers with and for devising a bathroom pass system. Thank you for every check or warning or consequence administered and for every carefully lettered popsicle stick used to cold call us and for every binder checked for organization and completeness.

There is a quote that I keep running into here in Mississippi, something Mother Teresa is supposed to have said: "Do small things with great love." To some extent, it has become my teacher motto and I have it hanging in a frame at home. As I sat with my roommates last night and discussed procedures for taking roll, I realized that maybe these are the small things teachers are meant to do with great love. I didn't see it when I was in school, but now it's hard to miss the love that went into every thoughtfully written classroom procedure and every carefully lettered classroom poster.

So, to my teachers, I must say again "thank you". Thank you for all of the small things and, above all, thank you for all the great love.

Sincerely,
An Old Student and New Teacher

1 comment:

  1. Nicole, I have tears in my eyes! This is everything I was thinking last night as I was laminating and printing and organizing! You have a great way with words my dear. To all of my past teachers, i too "thank you!"

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