Last night, I was scrolling through my phone, and I saw a
picture of my “official” first year class. My tummy literally did a flip. I
realize that I haven’t thought about them much because it’s almost easier on
the heart. I STINKIN’ love them. I would adopt any one of them in a
heartbeat. It’s so bizarre to spend
almost seven hours a day with a group of kiddos and then to go over a month
without seeing them. Don’t get me wrong…I LOVE summer. LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE
the time off. BUT I feel like a part of my heart was carried off into 17
different directions at the same time.
I got to thinking… what did I learn from this class? Without
a moment of hesitation I realized it was this: HUMILITY! Let’s be real, as a first year teacher, I really
had NO idea what I was doing. There were moments when I found myself wasting so
much time only thinking about how I could make a project or activity make ME
look like a super star teacher. It’s
like I was shouting to my fellow teachers: “I promise I’m not drowning over
here, homies!” Cutesy, creative, rigorous, under control, perfection… what
could I do to make it the BEST!? Other moments, I was just trying my best not
to snap and drop kick a child. I was gonna be the kindest and sweetest teacher
you ever did see….
“ YES 2 PLUS 2 is 4!!!! NOT 5, Sweet LOVE! Remember we
talked about this yesterday? And the day before yesterday? And the day before
that?!”
“ IF YOU RUN AWAY FROM THIS SCHOOL WE HAVE TO CALL THE
POLICE!”
What the heck? I was arguing with a kid about why he
shouldn’t run away from school? What was my world coming to? OH NO I’m GETTING
THE WORST TEACHER OF THE YEAR AWARD!
But now that it’s summer and I sit here in the sunshine
enjoying some cookies n’ cream icecream, I realize that a lot of the time I was
just being plain old selfish. I was forgetting the point. This whole school
year wasn’t about putting some spotlight on Miss G. for being the most patient
or creative teacher. I was here for THEM.
The main goal was that they would know the potential and strength that
they each held. That they would know they are loved and valued. Some days I
would fall flat on my face. Literally…. One day I got a little TOO excited and into the dancing brain break…and well I’m
sure you can just picture the rest. Those days would be the perfect
reminder…this isn’t about making ME look great . How can I go low and serve
this group of kiddos that are so deserving of love? They are the up and coming generation in this
nation, and how beautiful would it be to see them rise up as confident leaders?
The times that I realized it wasn’t really about ME, were the best days of all.
Here’s a prime example.
It’s a picturesque moment, right? I’m sitting in my grandma’s old
rocking chair and the kids are gathered around oh so quietly as I read them a
thrilling story. It’s one of those moments I was HOPING the principal would
come and visit my class. Then, the unthinkable
happens. I FART. I have absolutely no
idea it was coming. And this definitely isn’t one I can just hide. Guys, sorry
if it’s TMI but it was LOUD. A roller
coaster of emotion rushes across my students’ faces. First terror, then
confusion, and then I watch their bodies shake and lips quiver as they do their
best to hold in the earthquakes of laughter and giggles that is about to erupt.
A kid shouts: “ MISS G FARTED!!!!” The earthquake is unleashed and we are all
laughing for an amount of time that is most definitely taking away from any
“academic rigor.”
That moment changed my life. My kids saw my imperfection
loud and clear. There for sure was no hiding it. I was just another human like
they are. We talked about how it happens to everyone. Then, we pressed on with
our day and learned some fascinating things together. Despite probably blushing
for the rest of the day out of horrified embarrassment, I’m glad my first
“official” class could remind me I’m just a human. It’s not about me. But I’m
sure happy to do what I can to be a blessing in their lives. The pressure is
off.
