Once upon a time a little girl stood in her basement classroom teaching her heart out with old school books, a metal-framed chalkboard, a wooden school desk complete with carvings in the top, and her imaginary students. She read books aloud, gave spelling tests to friends she could convince to play the student role, graded papers, lectured, and even redirected the ill-behaved and misguided imaginary souls. Years went by, interests changed, and career opportunities were explored. However, once she caught that teaching bug, she never could shake it. That little girl has now spent way more years of her life in a school as either a student or a teacher than she has out of a school.
Every good teacher lives with constant questions in his or her mind.
"Am I really doing the best job I can do?"
"Am I making any difference in this crazy school?"
"Do they even know that I'm trying to help?"
I could go on and on. Reflection is constant in my business. I'm always second guessing how I've handled a situation or the words that I've spoken, the choices I've made, the reponses I've given.
As the school year gets closer toward its end, these question arise on a more frequent basis. This week has been one of those weeks. Friday was the icing on the cake and it wasn't even lunch time yet. But at 10:35, one of my sweet little second grade ESOL kiddos walked into the library for his media time and handed me the small note pictured above. The size no more than 3 inches x 3 inches, but oh so much bigger! Let's just say I am holding back tears as I now write and as I replay the exchange in my head.
Little things most definitely matter!
That was way too sweet. Thanks for the thoughts you shared. I have them daily. :)
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