Most of the time when people ask me what my profession is, they respond to my "Kindergarten Teacher" answer the same way: "God bless you!" "How do you do it?" And I can't blame them, because I respond the same way when others tell me they teach Middle School. Teachers are a special breed, and we are definitely called to our area of expertise by a higher power.
I love my job. LOVE my job. There are days when I come home frustrated and angry and threaten to find something else to do, but that feeling is gone in about an hour. My frustrations are never because of a student. Every part of my being feels an enormous sense of responsibility, pride in, and love for every one of my students. I'm also very seldom frustrated with a parent. Most of my qualms, most of what makes me feel disheartened, is what education is becoming. How educators are neither trusted nor valued by our government and, as a result, or society as a whole. But in spite of all that, I come back every day with a smile on my face. I will continue to come back because I was born to spend the day saying "sit on your bottom" a hundred thousand times. I was called to sing silly songs and play with my students. I have learned that you can be firm in your discipline and still pour your heart into those precious beings.
I teach K because I may be the only person who hugs a particular child that day. I teach K because it's pretty awesome having a throng of little people tell you that you are beautiful and nice and the best teacher they've ever had and you color so pretty (all in one breath). I teach K because I care about the foundation of education. I care about social skills and manners and cutting and gluing and coloring and skipping. I teach K because I want to foster independence in those kids whose parents do everything for them and for those whose parents have told them "you can't." THEY CAN! I teach K because there is nothing more fulfilling than hearing a child say "I love school!" or "I did it!!!" I teach K because I believe in our future and I believe that our students can have a quality education, in spite of what legislators are doing to ensure otherwise.
My students know that it's okay to be angry, but it's not okay to hit. They know that it's okay to be frustrated, but it's not okay to quit. They know that they are safe when I am near. They know that they are in charge of their own bodies, lives, and choices. They know that there is more to life than a number on a page or a statistic in a study. They know what good readers do, what good writers do, what good mathematicians do. They know that play is important. They know that school is fun.
I'm not perfect, and neither are they. We laugh together, we talk together, we grow together. We make mistakes and we learn how to correct them. And every year, when May rolls around, it is so bittersweet. I love seeing how much they have grown, how far they have come. I love that I will get a month or two to relax a little and spend time with my kids. But I'm always sad, too. I'm sad that they won't be in my care everyday. I'm sad that they will love another teacher, maybe even more than me. Because my students are my children for a year. It's so hard to let go. At the same time, I know they will go on to greater things than simplistic Kindergarten. Many years from now they may not even remember my name, but they will all have a very special place in my heart.
Those precious little hands and hearts and minds. That is why I teach.
No comments
Post a Comment