It's hard to believe, but the end of the school year is here. Every year I ask myself the same question...Where did the year go? I never have an answer. It just seems to speed by in a swirl of kaleidoscope colors.
The best I can do is this: we wrote, and wrote, and wrote. We read, and read, and read. Poetry, short stories, essays, and books. We laughed. We shared. They learned. I learned more. I prayed a lot, hoping that I was doing the right thing, teaching the right thing, saying the right thing. I fell in love with each and everyone of them, knowing that after ten months with me, I'd have to send them on their way where they'd soar, learn more, and remember what I taught them (fingers crossed).
I love being an English teacher. I love introducing them to Matilda, and Percy, and Turtle. I love helping them find their voice and showing them how to use it to shout as loud as they can with paper and ink. I love my craft. But I love my students more. They are the reason I do what I do. Every year they find a way of creeping into my heart, where they stay.
The other day I received this note in my box.
Let me tell you, my teacher heart smiled for days.
I'm grateful for so many things in my life, but as I reflect on summer approaching and the school year ending, I'm especially grateful I get to teach for a living. I love what I do, and I don't think everyone gets to say that.