Spring Break

I'm a really good teacher. I've said that many times before, I know.

But I am so glad to be on Spring Break.

I love my job. I love my students. I love the smell of a school. I love the cacophony of sounds. I love interacting with my peers. I love wearing the various hats I'm required to wear each day. No two days are the same and I love that about my profession.

Sometimes, though, it is all just too much and I need to get away to refresh and to refill my internal bucket that has to give so much that it often runs empty. I need a break from everything I love about my profession. The kids, the smells, the sounds, the peers, the hats. It. is. all. just. too. much. sometimes. (I probably shouldn't admit that, huh?)

Although quite wonderful, teaching is an increasingly difficult profession to last in. That is, if you really pour your all into it. I know people often hear of teachers who enter the profession lacking basic morals in addition to basic grammatical, spelling, and social skills. But for teachers who pour their hearts and souls into the students entrusted to them, teaching can be physically and emotionally draining. More and more often, students enter our schools lacking social and basic readiness skills. More and more often the parents who send such kids seem to be increasingly detached. As a result, a significant increase in teacher workload occurs. Not only do we teach Little Johnny or Little Lucy to read, write, and do arithmetic (the easy part), but we also end up being the keepers of little souls.

I am still surprised by the number of kids who reach my classroom door desperate for attention and validation and... love. I know part of it is just a natural part of child development. But for some, the need goes far beyond that.

Every year, there seems to be at least one student (some years way more than that) who does not have the basic level of Maslow's hierarchy of needs met. They show up at school the first week wearing the same shirt and pants every day. Or they show up without a lunch or lunch money every day, yet the application for free and reduced lunch is never returned from home. These are the kiddos who show up at school each day without basic materials needed for learning. These are the kids who wake up at 5:00 am so they can get breakfast and clothing ready for their siblings and themselves before seeing those siblings off to school because no adult showed up at home to see about them. These are the kids who are sleepy at school because they fled with their families in the middle of the night from a parent's abusive boyfriend or girlfriend. These are the kids who know their only meals for the day are the breakfast and lunch they will get at school since there is no food at home. These are the kids who take off their socks in class because their teacher looked down and noticed the holes in the dingy socks that reached far above their tattered shoes. These are the kids who may have a parent or family member at home, but they are so lost in their own despondency that they rarely utter a word to their children.

And this is in the suburbs.

Good teachers are the ones who stretch their family's already tight budgets to buy several additional sets of school supplies in anticipation of the students who will inevitably show up without them. Good teachers scour consignment shops as well as major stores during the winter and summer months in search of new or like-new clothing and shoes for the child/ren who show up without appropriate clothing for the seasons. Good teachers devise a plan to send clothes home in the backpacks, an outfit a day, until said child/ren have them all. Good teachers buy hygiene kits ahead of time to meet the needs of the kids who will show up without a bath and with uncombed hair. Good teachers stock up on crackers and trail mix and other non perishable items for students who come to school hungry or will go home to a hungry house. Good teachers have the school counselor on speed dial or email favorites to address any issues that crop up from day to day. Instead of visiting the lounge, many good teachers eat with their kids to keep their fingers on the pulse of the class, making mental notes of the kids who need extra attention.

Good teachers are now the safe place to run for many kids, a sanctuary as it were. By some grace of God, we are endowed with the ability to mix just the right salve to heal bruises to little hearts and bring encouragement to fledgling dreams. What a responsibility.

What an awesome, terrifying, and utterly draining responsibility.

Teaching is a difficult, yet rewarding profession. The course content, though a huge undertaking in and of itself at times, is really the easy part. Being the nurturer of a young person's dreams makes it so much harder and so much more precarious. How does one do it all and have anything left for their families at home? Why would anyone want to enter and remain in such a profession?

Just ask a good teacher and he or she might tell you that seeing a student open wings they never knew they had makes it all worth it. Or maybe it's when you receive a letter from a student telling you that if it were not for you believing in them, they would never have made it. For some, it may be seeing the face of a child the moment he "gets" a concept. No matter what the particular story is, most good teachers will agree that the reward is in knowing that you, in some small way, at some appointed time, made a profound impact on someone else's life.

And that, my friend, is what it is all about.

So please take every opportunity you find to fill up the bucket of a good teacher you know. This can be done through a kind word, a note of encouragement, a simple compliment... The sky really is the limit. The profession needs it, and our children need it, too.