Another School Year Over ...

It’s been well over a month since the school year ended and it’s about time I got my act together and wrote a reflection about the year. Hmmm, that word “reflection” sounds a bit pretentious, not to mention ambitious considering my lethargic state of mind. Now before you start passing judgement on what a lazy sod I am for taking such a godawfully long time to get around to jotting down a few lame words, let me assure you that I have been very occupied these last few weeks. But more on that in a different entry. Before the 2011/2012 year completely disappears into the nethersphere of my memory I want to capture what still lingers in my mind.

This past academic year undoubtedly ranks in the top 5 of all my teaching years. It was one of those years that reminded me why I chose this demanding and often thankless profession. 

My third grade students were all so sweet, so adorable, and so respectful. They loved me on the first day of school. Previous years’ kids and parents had raved about me and so these new kids entered my class with super high expectations. I found this a bit scary. I didn’t want to disappoint them, but at the same time I wanted to establish a disciplined environment right from the start. It all went well in the end. The kids were eager to please and receptive to my requirements.

A year like this one makes me feel immensely grateful to be in a career that brings such joy and satisfaction. Way back when I was a college student and worked at various dull summer jobs I knew I had to be in a profession that I found challenging, and that allowed me to be creative. Teaching at an elementary school satisfied those needs in the early years, but I needed more challenge. More stimulation. This led me to writing – novels, blogs, etc. But, I digress …

The last day of school is always a strange day for me. Usually, the weeks leading up to the last day are incredibly busy, leaving no time to prepare myself for the termination of relationships I had developed over a period of nine months. I find it weird to spend months nurturing a bond with kids and then to abruptly say goodbye to them. For the three summer months they are completely out of my life. Then a new school year begins and they move on, to new adults in their care. A brand new set of kids burrow into my heart and the old kids fade away. All of this feels so unnatural.

Anyway, it was certainly a terrific year. The last month of school was especially enjoyable. A third grade tradition at our school is to put on a play performance, a musical, for parents and other classes. This requires a lot of practice and rehearsals. The kids always enjoy doing this and it’s a fun way to bring the year to a close. This year’s kids exhibited far more enthusiasm than I ever remember. They eagerly learned their lines and very quickly perfected the dance moves. The kids with the lead roles worked really hard on their solo songs. Putting on a play like this that involves the whole class and a range of skills, is indeed a most enjoyable way to differentiate instruction. The kids with strong academic skills found great joy in challenging themselves to excel in different ways, like singing complex melodies in tune. Quieter kids who fade into the background during normal school days were taking leadership roles, offering valuable suggestions for improvement, and helping other kids hone their performances. It was a fantastic way to get the whole group working together, and taking pride in the finished product.

On the last day of school I asked the kids to write me a letter describing what makes them unique. I said, “In my new book I’d like to use one of you as a character. Tell me about yourself and give me reasons why I should use you. What makes you unique?”

Well, even though it was the last day of school, the kids got silent and wrote for close to an hour. 

I’m looking through these letters now and am utterly struck by how every single one of them is different. It was gratifying to see that they could all write, not just reasonably decent subject/verb/object sentences. But sentences with interesting content, providing the most salient details about them.

Here’s a sample:

I like to do drawings. When I grow up I want to be an artist.

What makes me special is that I can move my thumbs off the bones.

I enjoy reading, archery, and basketball. I like inventing new names for dives and basketball shots.

I am different from other people because I was born a month early. I had to stay in hospital for weeks. I would not eat, but it wasn’t that bad.

I love to swim. I want to be a lifeguard. I like surfboarding.

I like to go outside to write about nature and play “wet my fence”. I love helping my mom with chores, especially washing the bathrooms.

What makes me special is that I love school. I don’t play video games or anything like that like most kids. In my free time I like to read. I love writing and I think I am good at it.

I don’t like wearing pink and cute stuff. I usually play violent video games while girls brush their hair. I am an adventurous gal.

There are four things that make my name unusual.

My favorite team in the NFL is the Chicago Bulls. I was born in Chicago. I love swimming in the deep end.

One thing that makes me special is that I know how to be helpful.

When I grow up I want to be a golfer, singer, and dancer.

I love to travel to places. I love museums, and I have an interest in math.

I am special because I like to swim, I love animals, and I like to play hard songs on the piano.

What makes me special is that I was born in Switzerland. I can ride tandem with my dad on a surfboard.

I like to daydream while I am at school. When I grow up I want to be a scientist and study marine life.

I want to be an actress and a writer. I like making up stories for everything. I even make up stories for games.

I am unique because I love homework, absolutely, positively love math, and I love going to school. There isn’t a better place I could be at.

I can do a 360 on my bike and I can climb trees that are really high.

Away from the kids for over a month now, I smile as I think about their beauty and innocence. Is it human nature to remember the good stuff and forget the many challenges, annoyances, and irritations we, teachers, deal with daily?