Back to School Bonanza

Tomorrow is the first day of school. I think I am ready. It's my 5th year of teaching, and I'm not nervous yet. Trying to adopt a new attitude. Let things come and go as they may. Don't sweat the small stuff. Que sera, sera. This too shall pass. You know. All those cliche sayings.

And now a little story about my 2nd grade teacher. Her name was Miss A-hole. I have changed her name to protect her identity. But it rhymes with hole and starts with a "c". I digress. I remember that year because she was a very scary teacher. She was a large lady. If we got in trouble she would say, "You're in my doghouse!" This explains my aversion to doghouses-but that's neither here nor there. I can remember like it was yesterday talking to one of my friends on the first day asking her if we had to know our times tables in 2nd grade. I didn't know them and I guess I was afraid we would have some sort of test on them the first day. Ridiculous, I know. But I was nervous about that nonetheless.

That year I misplaced my spelling book (actually it was stolen by somebody at daycare--you know who you are!). I was terrified to tell Miss A-Hole. My parents thought I was ridiculous. So, my dad took me to school to explain that we misplaced it (code for it was stolen at daycare). To my surprise she didn't put me in a doghouse and the book actually turned up at daycare in the next few days. Whew. That was a close one. On another occasion we were learning our spelling words. I could not remember if the "u" or "i" came first in the word "building". She got so frustrated with me and was very short. As if having a "u" really makes any sense. If you ask me, it should be spelled "bilding". Well out of fear I learned the word and can still spell it today. Despite her, I actually turned out to be a good speller. All my friends would study their spelling words and I wouldn't. I could still ace the tests. Think they were jealous. Ha!

On yet another sad occasion in 2nd grade, my friend Katie and I were arguing one day over who got to go first in line. In a very dramatic way, Miss A-Hole came over and snatched my Honor Badge (which you had to earn by being respectful and responsible and in turn could go play outside after you finished your lunch) off of my shirt. It all happened in slow motion. To me it was like she had run over my dog. With a doghouse. Even at 7 years old I thought that was a little over the top. Didn't I at least deserve a warning? I was in no way a problem child. I barely even spoke! And, AND if she had given her class a number order in line, this could have all been avoided.

Here's a little story about my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Staton. I didn't change her name. :) She was so loving, patient, quiet and calm. She taught us cursive. Her and my mom have the most amazing cursive handwriting ever. She would write sweet notes to us. One day when I was sick she insisted that I go to the nurse. You see, I was shy and didn't like any attention, so I tried to tough it out. I know--hard to believe I was shy. Nothing like I am now! We also had a 3rd grade play "Goin' Buggy". I was a firefly. I don't remember the particulars of that year like I remember in 2nd grade. But I do remember how she made me feel. I was special, smart, and loved. She made me feel good about myself.

I tell these stories not to evoke sympathy from you, my readers. But to point out that I learned a valuable lesson in all of this. Love the kids. Even if you don't really love them, find something to love in all of them. Every word, every action should be analyzed. You never know how the little ones will take it. Now, I'm not saying that I'm perfect. I mess up sometimes. And if I do, I acknowledge it, apologize and move on. We are only human. But I want to be a human that my kids know loves them and that they feel it.

Here is my teaching philosophy: love 'em. I kind of stole that one from my mom. But I believe teaching is about relationships. That's when you get real learning. I want to have fun with my kids and laugh. I tell them all kinds of things about me and share my true self. I know all kinds of things about them--maybe stuff their parents don't even know. I have to remember all of this when it gets hard. And it is a hard job. We put in countless hours and more importantly we put in our hearts. At night when I'm trying to sleep, sometimes little faces pop into my head. That never happened when I worked at the law firm. I forgot about it as soon as I left. Teachers worry that we're not doing a good job or that this or that didn't get done. t's easy to get wrapped up in the day to day that we forget just how important a job it is. We have the power to make or break children. Like the Shamu Show at Seaworld says, "Believe!".

Have a great year teachers (and kids)!!!!