Back to School

I remember a long time ago, probably thirty years, sitting on the steps of my friend's apartment building and waiting for her to come home.  A neighbor boy, approximately four or five years old, plopped himself beside me and asked what I was doing.  Thus began a conversation that lasted ten minutes or so. During our talk, I told him I was a teacher.  His eyes grew wide and he was so excited to meet me because he was going to start school in September and he couldn't wait to meet his teacher. He knew he was going to love school.

Eventually, the little boy's mother found us and scolded him for wandering off. "But Mom," he said, "I was talking to my teacher."  Yep, I was already his teacher.  I probably would be his teacher when he got to seventh grade, but I doubted either of us would recognize each other.  I never forgot that little boy and his excitement about starting school and meeting his teacher.

I hope all of my teacher friends, and those teachers who would be my friends if I was still working, are having a great summer.  I hope they are relaxing, recuperating, and regenerating their enthusiasm for a very special calling.  In a few short weeks, they'll be back on the job.

Teachers are rarely appreciated. The administrations of most schools make showy attempts on those first few days to give lip service about how they value their teachers while at the same time making their jobs harder by having  schedules incomplete and holding boring, pointless meetings during times teachers could better use to prepare their classrooms and lesson plans. I would get so overwhelmed and depressed those first few days back.  Nothing I did was ever "enough."  It was so discouraging.  (I do post a disclaimer here-the Wayne Perry years were some of the most satisfying of my career.  But admins like him, Bill Hallock, and Natalie Holloway are few and far between.)

Finally, the kids would come.  And despite what they'd heard about that mean old Ms. S, they couldn't wait to meet me.  They laughed with me.  They willingly completed my first homework assignment-writing a short letter to me about what I needed to know to be a good teacher to them. They had hope in their eyes for a good year.  They had hope that their teacher would understand them and be patient with their shortcomings.  They were excited to begin.

Dear teachers, I hope you are rested and raring to go.  I hope you don't let the lack of support from your administration discourage you.  I hope you don't let the constraints of a canned curriculum defeat you.  Stay strong, stay positive, and remember that all kids can learn and most students really want to learn.  Be kind.  Be consistent.  Be the adult, not the buddy.  Be their teacher.

My former students are adults, some in their twenties and some all the way in their fifties.  When I see them in town, they remember me.  When they introduce me to their children, they call me "my teacher."

Teacher friends--that is who you will become to this year's students.  You will be their teacher. It's an honor.