What do I make? I make a difference. Still.

In 2015 I gave my 5th graders an assignment to write their future selves a letter. In it they were to explain what they were worried about as they were heading into middle school. This led to discussions about shared fears, [needless] worry and getting support from their friends. For a separate writing assignment, they compiled a list of things that made them happy. After we were done with the assignment, I had them each put their letter and their list into a self addressed envelope. I promised them I'd send the letters when they were done with eighth grade, so they could reflect on how they’d changed, both their fears and their happy things, in the three years. 

Re-reading their letters and lists this week brought me back to that special time with my students. I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be returning to Bagby. So these kids, with their hopes and fears and happy things, are quite special to me. It was also a really tough year, both personally and professionally for me. I don’t regret my decision to leave the classroom.  But there are things about teaching I miss. And the kids. I miss the kids. Each and every one of them. Even the children of the corn. You know who they are. The tough kids, the misunderstood kids, the kids who make it so hard, but need you the most.

So for those of you that still think a teacher only works 8:30-2:30 for nine months out of the year, please. Just stop. I have not taught in a traditional classroom in 3  1/2 years. Yet I am still teaching these kids, and they are teaching me. This week I wrote a letter to my now freshmen.  I took it to FedEx to make copies, since my printer is low on ink. Then I hand-wrote (in cursive) a short personal note to each child.  That’s thirty-one kids. I mailed them off today, at my own expense. 

And before you throw in nonsense about a pension, know this. Because I only taught after working in the private sector, the government will withhold 2/3 of my pension value from the social security I paid into, once I start drawing from both. That is due to this inane rule passed by congress in 1983 called the Windfall Elimination Provision. But I digress.

This blog post is not to toot my own horn about some amazing assignment we did almost four years ago, or to bemoan the pay that teachers get (or don't), but to remind you that your children make an indelible mark on our lives, as we hope to make on each and every one of theirs. Teachers work long and hard to give your child their best, sometimes at the expense of our own families. We do it because we care about their future and the future of our world. 

“True teachers are those who use themselves as bridges over which they invite their students to cross; then, having facilitated their crossing, joyfully collapse, encouraging them to create their own.”

― Nikos Kazantzakis