Even though the struggles of this spring are weighing heavily on me, there is still so much joy in what I do. I have been requiring my students turn on their mics and answer audibly for an attendance check each morning. I told them that hearing their voices gives me a physical reaction - my heart leaps for joy at hearing their voices. Literally. It's such a small thing. But at the same time, it's not.
I went into the school building today to pick up thank you notes written by the eighth graders to the staff. It's an example of an end of year tradition that is being re-worked for a virtual format. The graduating eighth graders usually take over a staff meeting in May to thank the entire school staff. There is a presentation by the students and then the staff feasts on sweet and savory treats provided by the parents while reading personalized thanks written by each eighth grader. This year the thanks were put in our boxes in the office and we were asked to pick them up in advance of the presentation that has been put together for our weekly Zoom staff meeting.
In reading through these notes, I get a glimpse of myself through my students' eyes. They talk about my purple hair and car, about how much they learned in my classes, and how much I jump up and down during class. For once, I overlook grammatical errors in their writing. Most are detailed and heart-felt, some are quite personal.
On the heels of reading through these notes, I read a comment on my previous blog post (a very rare occurrence) reminding me of a back to school note a previous student of mine wrote to his mom after being in my fifth grade classroom for only nine days:
I really do love what I do.
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