Writing Wednesday - Writing through Reflection

Today's post is about writing to reflect. Today on my fifth day of summer, I'm thinking back to my last days with my seventh graders this school year. My friend Colby isn't out yet for summer. I just saw a post from him somewhere on social media yesterday that his class looked the same during the school year as it did at the end of the school year. That really resonated with me.

My students in seventh grade know how school works. They wisely asked during the days leading up to the end of the school year when our grades were due. I was honest and said they were due Wednesday by noon. Our last day would be Friday. Someone smiled in first hour and asked if we'd be watching movies that entire last week then. I looked at them and smiled while the rest of the class laughed, including the kid that asked. Nope. We had days left together and I would be filling them up right until the end.

Last week wrapped up my 23rd year in education. In teaching kids from preschool through seventh grade I've figured a few things out. The more I stray from our typical schedule, the more poor behavior choices increase. The more I close down the classroom, the more the kids close down as well. As a result, I tend to teach right up until the end. Not with time fillers, but with lots of reflection. With the stuff we've done all year - time to read, time to write, time to share. 

We also have time to reflect. I asked each student to fill out a reflection of our class and our year. I break down the components of our workshop and ask them to tell me what they liked and disliked about all of it. I ask how they grew as readers, as writers. I ask what I could have done to make the year better for them? I ask how they felt about coming to our room each day.

Sometimes their reflection is hard to take. However, when that's the case, I feel good that I have set up a situation where they feel like they can be honest with me. These forms aren't anonymous, but the kids are still truthful. Sometimes their reflection guts me. Like the note on the bottom of one from a kid who was far from easy, who I wondered if I connected with, and who wrote me a note so honest and heartfelt that I sat in my classroom and cried. I'm so grateful that I had the chance to teach him, to teach them all.

And that was what our last four days were filled with - Padlets to share our reading lives with each other, with you, and with my students next year. Reflection on the class, on ourselves. And all too soon, our last day was there. As I set the time for the last time of independent reading a kid shouted out that I was making him sad, I should say it was our last time. When we sat down to watch the amazing short documentary on Jason Reynolds (check it out HERE), kids laughed that I had two "Jasons" in my life - Jason Momoa and Reynolds, that maybe Chris would be jealous. Grinning, I told them that it was time to write. In each class heads bent over notebooks, over Chromebooks, and fingers flew. I sat in front of my empty notebook and filled the page, grateful for this job I get to have and certain that I wouldn't want to waste any bit of it at the end of the year.

In case you're interested, I've shared our Padlets for the last week below. The first one is the kids' Top Ten books of the year. The second is their Padlet about how much they read and what their favorite book was. Enjoy!

Celebrating NCTE and More

Well, that was an unplanned break! I hadn't planned on taking two weeks off, but during the NCTE/ Thanksgiving season, these things happen. That makes me especially grateful to join Ruth Ayres and her celebration community today. You can find Ruth's blog and more celebrations linked up HERE. 

This week I am celebrating...

NCTE
My friend, Donalyn, calls NCTE "plaque removal." Many friends remarked that they wouldn't be teaching anymore without this conference. I think both comments are a testament to the power of this conference. I travel to NCTE and am immediately surrounded by friends who are as passionate about teaching as me. I am beyond grateful for a district and husband who support me attending this conference each year. What a blessing it is to listen to so many presenters and friends inspire me and want me to return to the classroom that minute and teach? A powerful experience. 

A photo for my students with Melissa.
Our classes have connected this year from Maine to Illinois. 

Authors
I love that so many authors attend NCTE. I imagine writing to be a lonely job at times. Being able to share the impact their writing has had on my students (and myself) is important to me. To me, authors are part of a partnership with teachers and librarians. We work together to hook children into reading. Getting to know authors, hearing their stories, gives me an added conversation to share with students. I was grateful to celebrate books, authors, illustrators, and publishers with my students when I returned from NCTE. We did some "speed dating" with many of the ARCs I brought back. To see the excitement in the room while the kids previewed books was exhilarating. 

My students are crazy over Phil Bildner's A Whole New Ballgame.

Nerdy Book Club
I've long been a member of the Nerdy Book Club, even before there was a club. I think anyone who grew up as I did with an addiction to books was too. I love that Donalyn Miller and Colby Sharp took this concept of loving books and created a blog. Along with those two and Cindy Minnich, I now help run that blog by scheduling posts. It is a great resource. But NCTE each year reminds me that Nerdy is more than a blog, it is this entire community that we are a part of. Presenting with the Nerdy panel this year was powerful. My students know that presenting stresses me out, but this one didn't. I felt good about it. Attending the Nerdy party on Saturday made me smile. All of these teachers, authors, illustrators, publishers, etc gathered together - what an amazing community! Long live Nerdy! 

Our fabulous Nerdy Book Club panel for NCTE.

My Students
Man alive, my students rock. I've known this, of course, but traveling away from them reinforced it. I created a Padlet for them to comment on, if they wanted, when I was gone. For my part, I promised to add photos. Many had never been on a plane, so I said I'd take a photo out of the window. I also promised I'd take a photo with some authors for them and post them there. I had no idea that it would be my students posting comment to me that would move me to tears. They knew that flying and presenting made me nervous and felt compelled to write me notes. Such cool kids. I think I will set up a Padlet for us to communicate over Christmas break as well. It was an awesome experience. 

Created with Padlet

Family
NCTE takes me away from not only my students, but my amazing family. I am grateful they understand why I feel compelled to go to these conferences and not only tell me to go, but encourage it. That also makes coming home all the sweeter. Spending time together this week over Thanksgiving break is a blessing I don't take lightly. My boys are growing far too fast, Chris and I try to step back and simply enjoy it on a regular basis. 

Hoping you all had a wonderful week! 

The Most Important Lessons

Five years ago I changed my teaching forever. I was in my second year of teaching only language arts, but that wasn't it. Five years ago I had a tough class. I loved them, of course, as you do every class you teach. This class, though, needed lessons I had taught explicitly before. They needed more than lessons on how to fall in love with books or how to share your writing. They needed lessons on becoming better people. 

I have always argued that the books I have read have made me a better person. I think I am more empathetic, more caring, more aware of the world around me. Five years ago I began sharing that with my students. Explicitly teaching them character lessons through shared texts, YouTube videos, articles, and more. I pushed them to really think about their actions. We reflected on what makes us who we are. I discussed how the coolest thing about each of us is that we get to decide how we want to be seen through our actions and our words. 

Each year I seem to dive into this work deeper. I am now convinced that the greatest gift I can give my students is self-awareness. I can help them become the best version of their selves that they can be. Of course we do this through reading and writing, so curriculum is still taught, but nothing is as important to me as being a good person. If we all did that, the world could be a better place. 

Except when it isn't.

My oldest son had a football game this weekend. Football at the middle school level is interesting. Some boys have already grown, others are still similar to when I had them two or three years ago. However, their smiles are still the ones I know. I love watching them. 

Yesterday's game was tough. The team we played was skilled. There were some ugly penalties, but that happens. Their coach was a bit over exuberant, but that happens. What I didn't expect to happen was for one of our players to be called names based on the color of his skin. 

Apparently it went on all game, but at the end of the game was when I became aware of it. First, by a rude comment someone from their side of the field called out. Then, by our player's ejection from the game. It seems he had had enough and pushed the other player who had been saying these words to him for the entire game. Going to that side of the field, I was met with shocked parents who had heard it going on the entire game. One of the refs heard it too and finally ejected the other child from the game as well.

The game was over by that point. Our boys came to the sideline and I saw tears streaming down their faces. They walked through the line to shake hands, including the boy who had been dealing with racial slurs the entire game. Watching our boys in the post-game huddle was hard. Tears were flowing freely. Two of my current students came up to talk to me about it. One looked at me and said, "That player on their team must not have a teacher who tells them to pay attention to their moral compass." I smiled.

Our players came off the field. I hugged a few, consoled my son who was shook up by the entire experience. I said a few words to my former student who had just experienced hatred when he should have had a great day playing football. 

Yesterday reminded me that what I am doing is important. Children are clay, waiting to be molded. We can help them be the best versions of themselves that they can be, or the worst. As teachers, we didn't go into this job thinking our responsibility was anything but the written curriculum, however I would argue it is this hidden curriculum that matters the most. We can make an impact on a child's life that last a lifetime. I was beyond proud of my current and former students last night. Their character shone bright. It will be a lesson I will share with my class on Monday. It is the most important lesson I can teach. 

Books as Windows, Mirrors, and More

I believe strongly that books have the possibilities to be windows and mirrors for my students. By reading books, we see through the windows into other lives. We can develop empathy because we experience hardship as our characters. The scenes that vividly come when I recall them are the books that I have sobbed over. Through books I have experienced heartache that I have never had to know in my own life, but understand a bit more through the safety of pages that I turn. These stories have made me a better person because of all of the characters I have encountered.

Books can also be mirrors. Through the pages of a book, you can see you are not alone, not the only one going through something hard. This is critical to me. I clearly remember childhood, and mine was a happy one. But when something tough would happen to me, I’m not the kind of kid who would want to talk about it. I pull everything inward. I would stew on topics for the longest time, beating myself up inside, thinking I was the only one dealing with it. Sometimes a book would find me and show that I wasn’t alone. More often, however, I was left with my thoughts. For this reason alone, I want students to find themselves in books.

This is why I wish Alex Gino’s George was in every classroom. George was written for 8-12 year old kids, but I would place my bets that it won’t be in all of those classrooms. See George was born a boy, but knows that she is a girl. Writing about sexual identity for this age group would be tough, yet Gino does it well. I’ve talked to teachers who have told me that they don’t want to deal with this topic. That no student in their class needs to read about a child dealing with the concept of sexual identity. I would like to argue that we all need to read this book. Whether George is a window to let students look into the world of a child dealing with sexual identity, or a mirror into their own struggle, it’s an important book. As a teacher, I care about my students. I want them to be successful. And the percentage of transgender teens that attempt suicide is staggering. (40-50%, in case you are curious.) We need more books like George.

So yes, mirrors are important. But something I have been talking to my friends about lately also runs in the opposite direction. There are times we need mirrors, and I think all books can be windows, but sometimes we need to escape. Some of my students this year have had hard lives. Poverty, divorce, foster homes, illness, and loss of a parent are just some of the things these ten year olds are dealing with. It is too much.

One of my students came into my room this week and asked me to help him find a book. My homeroom students were all working, so I began roaming the perimeter of the classroom where our shelves line the walls. I asked him what he was looking for. His big eyes found mind and he said, “I need to laugh.”

Knowing him, knowing his story, my own eyes welled up. He does need to laugh. I steered him over to the memoirs and pulled out Jon Scieszka’s Knucklehead. Slipping my arm around his shoulder I said, “How do you feel about books that devote a whole chapter to the concept of a sword fight when multiple brothers are peeing.” He began to grin and grabbed the book from me, heading to check it out.

Life is hard. I wish I could make my students’ lives easier, but I cannot. There are times that I break down when I get home, thinking of everything that my students are going through, and wondering how I can possibly help. I can’t fix much, but I can buy them books. I can talk about the books and try to match the right one to the right reader. I can have a varied library so they can find those books that can teach them empathy, let them understand what their friends are going through, or let them see themselves. Let them understand that they are not alone. But I also want the books that allow them to laugh. Allow them to escape their ever day life and just have fun. Books can do that too.

Do you have any favorite escape books? Ones that are silly, fun, or make you laugh out loud? If so, please share. This is a year I am going to need as many of those as possible. Thanks!

Writing In Front of My Students

Just five years ago, I wasn't a writer. Sure, I'd write a narrative if I asked my students to write one, but that was it. I didn't identify as a writer. I certainly didn't write - journaling or otherwise - on a regular basis. I didn't see the issue with that either. And then, I thought about it. I was a good reading teacher because I was a reader, because I knew how to talk to kids when they were stuck, when they finished an amazing book, when they couldn't get into a book. So, I asked myself, how was I helping them as writers? I couldn't avoid it anymore. I began writing and thus this blog was born.

Writing in front of my students didn't come until midway through that first year of blogging. When I read Penny Kittle's book, Write Beside Them. It was powerful. They could see my writing. How it was imperfect, like their writing was. It gave them confidence to try themselves. It taught me a lot too. 

This week I am wrapping up our first unit in ELA - Learning to Live Like Readers and Writers. I've taught them a lot about picking books, finding time to write, finding topics to write about, etc. We have also done a lot of work on socio-emotional growth. Talking about how we treat others and ourselves. On Tuesday I shared Trudy Ludwig's The Invisible Boy and also this video I found a year or so ago:



After watching it, we did a quick write about whatever the book and video inspired in us. I wrote about Wonder and what it means to "choose kind." 

Whoa. It was in writing during the first class, and the second, and the third, that I came to a realization about myself. I write in my journal under the document camera while the kids do as well. I starred my new thinking and when we finished, I shared what I learned with my first class. I am a kind person, but the quote from Wonder made me realize that I often choose right before kind in my mind. When I know I am "right" about something, I get irritated. I'm still outwardly kind, but inside I'm frustrated because I'm right - or at least I believe I am. I told that first class that I was just realizing the time I was wasting worrying about my rightness, for lack of a better term. Through the second class and third class I wrote more about it, sharing with my students.

Their reactions were fascinating to me. Some of them came up to tell me that they still thought I was super kind. I thanked them. Some came up to tell me what they learned about themselves. We learned that we are all imperfect, including their teacher, and that's ok. We can work to be better.

Writing in front of my students is hard. You are vulnerable. But I wouldn't give it up for anything. I learn something about myself each time I do it. My students learn about me. And we continue to grow closer as our year unfolds. I highly recommend you try it today. 

Celebrate This Week

Man alive, I need to celebrate. Thankfully Ruth Ayres organizes this weekly celebration over at her blog. (HERE) Yesterday was our thirteenth day of school. I feel like I have run a marathon. No, more than that. Maybe one of those ultra marathons. Yep. That's it. And the entire thing has been uphill. 

It isn't that the year hasn't been wonderful. This class rocks, I can already tell. I love them to pieces. I have so much working in my favor. It's my youngest son, Liam's, class. I've known so many of these kids since they were small. I've held several within days of them being born. In all honesty, out of the 68 students I am teaching this year, I knew 41 already. Either I've taught their siblings or they were friends of Liam. That's a heck of an advantage. 

That being said, the marathon. There is so much you have to do the first thirteen days in language arts. I needed to confer quickly with anyone in language arts intervention last year and see if I felt they needed some extra help immediately. I needed to get my Fountas & Pinnell tests done. I needed to give the benchmark tests for reading and writing. It is exhausting. Oh, and the heat index approached 100 on Wednesday, was over 100 on Thursday and Friday. My room is not air conditioned and felt like an oven. Thankfully, we did get out an hour early, but wowza. What a week. 

When Friday was said and done, and I was home in my air conditioning (and had showered!), I reflected on the week. I realized I had so much to celebrate with this group, even more now that my start of the year assessments are done and I can simply teach! Here are just a few celebrations from this week:

Graphic Novels
This class is devouring graphic novels like nothing I have ever seen before. Many of them didn't know Babymouse or Lunch Lady until I book talked them the first week. One sweet little girl asked if she was allowed to read them since they were clearly below her reading level. I asked if she enjoyed them, she smiled and said yes. I told her that reading was meant to be enjoyed. If she planned on reading them as her only books all year, I would need to help her find something to supplement her reading diet. But read the series. Reread a favorite. Just read. 

Power of Twitter

Speaking of graphic novels, I read a new one this week - HiLo The Boy Who Crashed to Earth by Judd Winick. It was at my house on Tuesday, I had preordered it. I read it and laughed. So amazing. Bringing it to school on Wednesday, the waiting list became longer with every book talk. Then I saw that you could enter a contest using #HiLo in a tweet for a free book and some art work. My students quickly thought of an idea, we took a photo, sent the tweet, and were one of the winners! The kids were pumped and even bigger fans of Twitter than they were before. 

Sixty-eight little sponges
One of my favorite things about the start of the year is watching students soak everything up. It's all new to them. All of your stories, procedures, tech pieces you use are brand new. I shared book trailers this week, a child went home and created one himself. Books I've loved, they've never heard of. I told the story of sobbing over Jo Knowles See You at Harry's to my homeroom Friday afternoon as we all sat on the floor, melting. My two copies were checked out immediately. Three girls ran to the school library and the librarian went to the middle school and got three copies for them. I love watching the excitement unfold. 

Friday Reflection
This year I'm working on having the students reflect on their reading and writing on Fridays. How did they grow this week? What are their goals for next week. Sometimes they just write "I read/wrote more." But others? They are so insightful. "I wrote about hard things." "I finally found a book I liked." "When I was sad this week, I picked up my journal and wrote. I think that shows growth." It is a great way to end my week, reading these reflections. 

Messages
I share a lot about myself at the start of the year. I need to build connections as soon as possible. Sometimes I worry that I'm sharing too much. That kids are thinking, "Get to the point, Mrs. S." When I get a text like this, though, my heart melts. I know we are starting off strong. The connections and relationships that are built are important. This makes me think that this could be one of the great years. I cannot wait to see where it takes us. 

Have a great weekend! 

The Power of Reflection

The act of reflection is something I try hard to teach my fifth grade students. It is a quality they struggle with, mightily. To reflect accurately on oneself, I have learned, is something even adults don't do well. That being said, I think knowing who you are, knowing your strengths as well as weaknesses, is a powerful thing. And so, I teach it.

I live in my head a great deal, I always have. I think I am my own harshest critic. At the start of my teaching career I would listen to my principal give me a glowing review and then insist he list everything I needed to do to improve. When he would look at me, puzzled, I would create my own list for him. I know very well what I am good at. I also am very aware of the many areas in which I need to grow. They are numerous.

My own children have reaped the benefits of this mindset. I have pushed them since they were little to reflect on their actions, strengths, and weaknesses. They look at the world differently - Luke can focus on the negative, Liam focuses on trying to get by with the least amount of work. So, we work on that. For example, I require Luke to list positive things about people, school, his own performance before he tells me anything that is negative. While they are not perfect, they are improving. I think I am harder on them, at times, than I need to be. Because I have seen the impact of parents being unaware of who their children are and what they are truly capable of, I push mine. I need to ease up and it is through reflection that I can see that.

My students so desperately need this growth too. Upon turning in an assignment, I might hand out a reflection sheet. How did they do on the assignment? What was their effort like? Could they have improved? At the start of the year I get a lot of "Great!" By the end of the year, most students can critically look at themselves, know when they mailed it in or when they truly worked their hardest. When we work in groups, I have them reflect as well. Are they contributing? Do they make the group work better by their presence or does it make the group fall apart? How can they be an asset and not a liability. I think this is a life skill our kids, and the adults in this world, desperately need.

As teachers we need this too. When I began teaching my mom recommended that I reflect on each day at the end, write my reflection down on an index card, punch a hole in it, and put in on a ring. Over the year, she told me to read over those cards, reflecting on how I had grown and the work I still needed to do. It helped. 

Now, this blog is my index card. So is my writing notebook. Our job is such an important one. The impact a good teacher can make on a child can last a lifetime. The impact of a bad teacher can do the same. I so desperately want to make a positive impact. I want to help my students be better than they thought they could be. Meeting them, learning their stories, seeing how some of them hurt, I want to help. I carry their pain around with me, looking for a way to heal what I cannot. It is a hard job. 

This year I encourage you to find a way to reflect. Whether your chosen method is through writing (which I encourage), talking to colleagues, or observations of your students, you can find the spots you are already shining. You can also find the areas where you need to grow. 

To start off your reflection, please take some time and listen to Penny Kittle's new podcast, Stories From The Teaching Life. (HERE) What a gift she is giving us. Listening to her stories made me reflect on my own. It also reminded me of the good we do each day in this profession. I think it will lift you up and give you the energy to go in tomorrow. 

Reflection. What a powerful tool. Whether you have already started your school year or are just getting ready to begin, I wish you well. Let's make it the best one yet. 

The Start of the Year

The start of the year is always a blur. I plan, organize, prepare, and still am left in awe. Twenty years in to this career, sixteen in my district, six in this grade level, and I am still learning. Maybe when I retire I will finally figure out how on earth to get everything done I need to get done, but for now I am simply along for the ride.

The first few weeks of school also coincide with football games and practices for my two boys. It is crazy. I think I am constantly driving someone somewhere, all the while thinking of what I need to do. It is the time of year where I come home from work, plop down in a chair in my kitchen, grab my laptop, and begin working again. Two hours later someone will wonder in and ask what's for dinner and I will be shocked to see that the time has passed. It is the time to remember that I will never be caught up and trying to get caught up will drive me to madness. 

Judging by the amount of emails, Facebook messages, Twitter messages, and Tweets I've had about the start of the year just this week, I think I am not alone in this struggle. I've had so many wonderful teachers reach out with questions, that I thought I'd address a lot of similar concerns here. Remember, we're all in this together. It gets easier. 

Things to remember...

1. Start Slow

I think this is especially important for those of us that taught the same grade last year. You remember those kids that just left. How they knew to bring a notebook to the carpet for mini-lessons. How transitions and the schedule flowed. You didn't need to tell them to put their homework in the third tray for their class. For me, those kids were almost ready for sixth grade. This new group? They just left fourth. They are light years from the children that just inhabited this classroom. I have to slow down, remember. These kids will get there soon, but you have to go back. Teach the routines. It takes time. 

2. Technology

I use a lot of technology in my language arts class. The main struggle I have at the start of the year is tech. My students that just left seamlessly transitioned from notebook to iPad to laptop, depending on what they were doing. They new the programs we used and how to be responsible online. A new group coming in has to be taught all of that. I struggle with the feeling of not "really" teaching until everything is up and running. I want to rush through, give a brief overview, and get the workshop started. That doesn't work. Over the past week and a half, I have taught my students:

• Padlet
• Twitter
• Reminders on Google Drive
• iPad overview
• Booksource Classroom Organizer
• How to do a Google search 
• Audioboom
• How to make a QR code

We've been in school for eight days. I think I could teach in more depth on many of these topics as our year goes on, but the students seem to have an overall grasp so far. Some were just brief lessons in passing, some were the mini-lesson for that day. We're getting there. 

3. The decorations don't make the room, the kids do

I've had this conversation with so many educator friends of late. I think I blame it all on Pinterest. It is there to make us feel inadequate if our rooms are not adorned in chevron stripes with beautiful colors all over our room. Nope. Not going there.

Years ago I had a professor at Roosevelt University named Barb Dress. She told us that if our rooms looked "finished" before school started, we were doing something wrong. She said a true classroom would have blank walls - they were waiting for student work. There would be a lack of "teacher made items" because that was pointless. There would be little to no anchor charts up because the purpose of an anchor chart was to be made with the students. I took that to heart. 

I'm eight days into the school year. Most of my bulletin boards are still blank. We're building our classroom together. The kids are there. Their photos are up. The room is filled with books and ugly old furniture from my house. It's a great place to be. 

4. Mistakes will happen

In the past eight days I have over planned - the first week's lessons alone could take me to September. I forgot kids names. Technology has failed. Students said mean things to each other. Someone tweeted the poop emoji. I gave many Mrs. S Life Lessons speeches. 

I've cried in front of the kids because I was moved by their actions. I've laughed. We've had great moments and some that could have been better. Each mistake and each success go together to tell our story of our year together. But that's the good stuff. 

I sat in the room on the side on Friday while another teacher was in the room giving a presentation. I realized that as crazy as everything is, as much as I still need to do, I felt at peace. One of my boys glanced up from his spot on the couch and grinned at me and gave me a half wave. I think we are on the right track. 

The start of the year might be crazy. It might give me more gray hair than I want, but it is the building time. The relationships are being formed, the backbone of our workshop is being created, and the year has begun. I think it will be my best one yet. 

The Impact We Make

As I prepare to begin another school year, I feel the excitement welling up inside. Our class lists were posted this week. I poured over each of my three classes. Seeing some names that are familiar, some names that I don't know a face to tie it to, yet. I felt the flutter of excitement. Wondering what this year would bring. How long it would take to feel that amazing bond of community. Would they love reading first, or writing? Could I help them grow as much as I wanted? Where to start?

When I teach, I become a story teller. I share stories I have heard about authors to help sell their books. I confide stories about when I've messed up to let my students know they are not alone. I bare my soul and tell them the fears and joys of being a parent so that they will understand their own a little better. I find stories in videos and articles online, picture books and chapter books in my room, that open up the discussion for stories of character. To try and help my students become the best version of themselves that they can. And I hope, and spend many hours praying, that they heard me. Heard any of the stories that they needed to hear. I hope that whatever story they were meant to get wormed its way into their brain and they can come back to it later. 

Teaching is an odd job. It reminds me of parenting in many ways. You pour all of this energy into these people in front of you for a year and hope that you helped them. Sometimes I can see that I did. A child changes in our year together. It is obvious. But often, you don't know the impact you've made. Like parenting, it is seen years later. And that can be tough. 

I'm one of the lucky ones. In a town the size of mine, I see these kids from the moment they enter into my class through their graduation from high school. I don't see them daily, of course, but I can visit with them on and off through the years. I watch them go through middle school as they work on figuring out who they are. Then they move on to high school and find groups of friends that celebrate them. They start to make plans for the future, thinking of what they want to become. I watch them graduate, grins stretched across their faces, tears in the eyes of their parents, and I marvel at how quickly time has passed. It is incredible. 

But because I am here, I also get to see the impact that the teachers in their lives have made. My former students will share. Through emails, messages on social media, conversations when passing in the street, they tell me. Good and bad, we make an impact. They remember the kind teacher in Kindergarten who dried their tears when they wanted to go home. The gruff teacher in the middle grades who made them realize they were being lazy. The teacher in high school who inspired them by their passion for the subject. That made them have the desire to major in it themselves in college. 

This is not a role I take lightly. We will be remembered, and we get to choose what that looks like. Long ago, I made that choice. I knew I wanted my students to remember me as a teacher that cared who they were, a teacher who believed in them, a teacher who thought reading and writing were important because it makes us more aware of ourselves and the world around me. So, I tell stories. I bare my soul. I cry with my students, laugh with them, hug them, and go home and cry for the ones I can't reach. It is hard.

This week I got to see the names of the sixty-eight kids I will be spending the next school year with. I also hugged a former student who was starting her senior year. Spoke words of confidence to several students getting ready to begin middle school. Sat on my front porch and talked to boys who I taught a few years ago. Exchanged emails with students who were heading to high school. In each exchange, I was blessed to see the impact that we make. It wasn't always visible in the year I had with them, but in hindsight, I can see it. 

As you prepare to start another year with the students who will fill up your classroom, I encourage you to take a moment and think of the impact you will make. You might not see the results of your work this year, but they will be there. Speak to their hearts. They are waiting to be filled up. Have a wonderful school year. 

Fifteen Days

Benefit to early morning walks? Beautiful sunrises. 

I had a moment of panic this morning. Returning from a morning walk with Rosie, I was talking to Chris before he left for work. We were talking about when school would begin and I replied teachers go back the 17^th, students the 19^th. He made the comment about how early that seemed and left for work.

I glanced at my calendar and my stomach felt queasy. The 17^th was two weeks from yesterday, the 19^th two weeks from tomorrow.

How does this happen? Every year the start of the school year sneaks up on my, and yet every year I feel surprised. One would think I would begin to expect this phenomenon, but no. Here I am, beginning my sixteenth year in my district, twentieth in teaching, and I’m in the same place.

Summer always comes exactly when I need it. I am, of course, sad to see my students go, but I know it is time. They are ready to spread their wings. I am in desperate need of some sleep and time with my own family. My mind can focus on putting my own family first. I have visions of relaxing mornings, cleaning sprees at my house, days spent reading and writing.

Some of that happens, much of it remains a fantasy.

In truth, my schedule is crazier in the summer than during the school year. Two boys in sports makes my head spin. Family trips, professional conferences, games, practices, tournaments – my mind whirls. And yet, it is easier. I am fully present, not having to juggle the demands of school and home. It is awesome.

At the end of July, I felt the urge. I began to write lesson plans. I headed in for a few hours to get my classroom set up. I organized all of the books I had read over the summer, added them to my data base, and bagged them up to bring in. It was getting closer, I could feel it.

It was how close it truly was that threw me today. This week hasn’t gone as planned. My van broke, again, this weekend. I love my Silver Streak, but am not fond of three – now four – different repairs in one summer. Either is my checkbook. So, no trip to Target on Sunday. No errands ran, no classroom library organized. I feel behind, and that is not a feeling I enjoy.

So, I do what I know needs to be done. Lists created. Trips by bicycle to the Post Office to mail the letters to last year’s group, wishing them well as they head on to middle school. Visits to school to dip my toe back into the water, feel the excitement flood through me, know that it is almost time.

Next week I will see my class lists. Know what group of kids I am spending the next ten months with. Know who is part of my new school family. It is then that it will seem real.

Fifteen days. Fifteen days until I stand in front of a room full of students and feel that rush that comes from the start of a school year. The rush that is full of possibility, the rush that reminds me that anything is possible. Fifteen days. I am ready, and yet, I am not. I have fifteen days to spend with Luke and Liam. To say yes to days spent at the pool, time with friends, and yes, time spent organizing. Fifteen days. It is almost here.