Seeing Students in Stores

I've been teaching for over 20 years in the same area, but in four different schools and at six different grade levels. I've run into present and former students and families everywhere from Comicon to Safeway. I even ran into a co-worker and his kids, one of whom was in my class at the time, at Great Wolf Lodge once. It can be jarring, like the time I ran into a former third grader, from my first year of teaching, in the bar at Applebee's. But so far (knock on wood) I've only had positive experiences running into people from my school communities.

I'm pretty good at recognizing former students, even if I can't always remember which school or grade level they came through my classroom. I am much worse at recognizing their parents, though they often recognize me. If someone looks vaguely familiar, keeps casting glances my way, or tells me I look familiar, I assume I taught their kid(s) at some point. It only gets awkward when people talk at length about how their child is doing now without clueing me in to who their child is.

Several years ago, I ran into one former student while she was working at Bath and Body Works. She was very excited to see me and chatted with me the entire time I was in the shop. I did need her nametag to recognize her, given that she was in her early 20s and I knew her well as an eight-year-old. But it was very fun to see her enthusiasm and exuberance for life had not diminished over time. As I was leaving the store, I overheard her telling her co-worker stories about being in my classroom.

Once when I was out doing my grocery shopping at a store that was on my way home, but not my usual spot, giggling followed me through the store. It was always about an aisle behind me, and I didn't catch a glimpse of the kids who were the source, but their joy made me smile as I shopped. Finally, as I was approaching a checkout line, two girls who had been in my class the previous year jumped out at me. They had a lot of fun startling me, and the memory still makes me smile.

Today my husband and I braved the Christmas Eve crazy of a grocery store to stock up before the potential Christmas snowfall in the forecast. Our cashier was on the younger side, and he and the bagger bantered back and forth the whole time we were in their line. The bagger looked quite familiar above her face mask, and once I caught a glimpse of her nametag under her long hair, I knew exactly who she was. But she was so busy bantering with the cashier, she barely looked at the customers in her line. As we were leaving, I waved at her, and suddenly recognition lit up her face. "Your last name isn't Conrow, is it?" she asked. She turned and chatted briefly with me as the next customer's groceries piled up on her end of the counter. As she wished me a Merry Christmas, I got the distinct impression that she felt like she had missed an opportunity to chat with me while I was in her line.

I suppose students who didn't like me as their teacher might recognize me when I am out and about, and then avoid me. But I prefer to believe most of my students enjoyed being in my classroom and enjoy seeing me out in public.  Interactions like these are another perk of the job. Knowing former students have positive feelings toward me years after they were in my classroom makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

Christmas Wishes from 4th Graders

 During the last two weeks before Christmas break, I found myself searching for videos on YouTube to play as a part of our morning prayer in my fourth-grade classroom at a Catholic school. I happened upon a video that was entirely in Spanish. which I knew I couldn't play in my classroom, nor could I claim to understand every word, but which captivated my attention anyway. Some store - I honestly don't remember which one - hosted an event where they asked kids to write letters to Santa. After composing the fairly typical lists of things they wanted, the kids were then asked to write Santa a letter on behalf of their parents. Listening to and watching videos of parents reading their children's letters on their behalf, I knew I needed to incorporate this activity into the final days before the Christmas break.

I found a window of time on the second to last day before the break. I shared a slide with my Bitmoji sitting on Santa's lap and asked my class to tell me what they wanted for Christmas. Everyone got to say one item. Then I had them compose letters to Santa.

Many of my students wrote the typical "I want, I want, I want" lists, which admittedly I had kind of set them up for. But we have written several letters this school year to guest speakers and have spent the past month writing weekly thank you cards to real people we know in and outside of school. As a result, some of my students took the time to write an introductory paragraph thanking Santa for past gifts, asking after Mrs. Claus, or telling Santa how amazing he is.

Potentially inspired by Phinneas and Ferb

One student only asked for books for himself, for a cure for COVID, and wished Santa a safe trip. For a ten-year-old, that's about as selfless as it gets!

But of course, the whole reason I wanted to do this activity with my students was to see what they wrote in their second letter. When the majority of kids were done with their letters to Santa, I put up a slide with my Bitmoji wishing on a star and asked them to share what they wished for their parents to have this Christmas. 

The responses ranged all over the place in the discussion, from gadgets I had never heard of before (the Lululemon mirror) to a new bed because one student's parents have been sleeping on a mattress on the floor since their bedframe broke, to a peaceful and stress-free drive to their holiday get togethers. I read letters with all of those requests, and others wishing for more family time, less work for Mom and Dad, and even less stress or worry for the family. 

My students primarily come from privileged backgrounds. Very few of them really understand the plight of people who don't know where their next meal is coming from or where they will lay their heads at night. (Though on a fourth-grade intellectual level they are aware because our school community is constantly praying for and hosting donation drives for those in need.) But they do know that the past year and nine months have been extraordinary. They feel the anxiety of their families and wish they could help.

If only we humans could crush the coronavirus, and quick too!

Social Butterfly

I had to start putting my social engagements for the Christmas break into my calendar app today. This might be because we are not traveling nor having family visit us this year. But it still felt strange to have so many plans with friends that I had to start a schedule for them, so I won't double book myself or forget about one.

The busy schedule actually started last week. I met co-workers for lunch last Sunday to "pre-funk the last week before the break." We sat around a table for at least two hours laughing and talking about our families, our place of employment, our Christmas plans, and whatever else came up. On Tuesday a different group of co-workers and I went to happy hour after school. Over margaritas these 20-something teachers were *shocked* to find out my age. Apparently, I am one year older than one of my co-worker's parents. She said it was weird to think about the fact that one of her friends is her parents' age. My favorite moment was the hushed comment, "No, you're not that old," followed by the exuberant, "You don't act old!" So now I keep telling them, "I'm so old." Afterall, it's something I say to my students all the time.

When I got to the staff Christmas lunch on Friday, after a meeting that had run long, I was surprised and pleased to see that some of my co-workers had already placed my name card at their table. One of them told me, "We grabbed all the names of the people we wanted to sit with." Does that mean I finally got to sit at the cool kids' table? Because that was never me before.

My co-workers also gave me joy with their thoughtful gift giving. One member of my team always picks similar, but different items for each of us. As I looked at my new socks, I asked my partner teacher to show me the socks she had received. Before she could even respond, I followed it up with, "Mine are better." 

I had to wear them on Friday, for our school's annual caroling competition and indoor snowball fight. They did match my outfit after all.

But the best gifts are always the handwritten cards from students and families.

The gift that made me laugh the most this year came with an assortment of pampering items. I didn't notice anything humorous about it at first. But as my husband was marveling over the fact that fourth graders carried bottles of wine into the school for me, he read the back of the "Bizzy Magic Wand" CBD oil that came with a facial mask, a bath bomb, a bar of fancy soap, and a bottle of wine. Thinking about the fine print coming into the school in the hands of a sweet fourth grader who definitely had no idea what it said made me laugh out loud. But I put some on my sore neck - and I can say it mellowed out my muscles in mere seconds.

The Wonders of the Season

 My students know how to put a smile on my face. I have had a steady trickle of gifts coming in since just before Thanksgiving. First, I got an Amazon gift card, I think for teacher appreciation week. I've been getting baked goods and chocolates too. One student gave me a GIANT Lindor chocolate Advent calendar. On Monday morning I had a student run to my desk as she entered the room, backpack and coat still on. She held a plastic bubble from a vending machine near my face, bottom side toward me so I couldn't see what was in it. "Open it, open it, open it!" she chanted as she handed it to me. Inside was a plastic Wonder Woman ring. It's too big for my pinkie and too small for my other fingers, but I wore it around my classroom all week.

On Friday another student handed me a Christmas gift bag. Inside was a handful of chocolate with a Christmas ornament.

One student who is new to our school has an IEP team from the local public school that has been working with us since the start of the school year. One day this week when she came in from lunch recess she came straight to me - advocating for herself, which is one of her IEP goals. She was upset about something that happened on the playground and asked me to mediate a conversation between her and another student. It turned out to be a simple misunderstanding that was cleared up quickly. Afterwards, she wrote me this card:

Next week is the last week of school for the calendar year. It's going to be crazy, especially with a trench being dug on the playground/parking lot. But I'm sure there will be joy in the midst of it all. I wonder how many more Wonder Woman gifts I will receive... 

December Joy

Assignment:
Make a poster of someone who shows the traits of an Inquirer

I had a student tell me last week, "You laugh a lot." In that moment I was laughing because our carpool line was being asked to shift down, yet again. Space feels tight because we are tasked with keeping our students three feet apart in the carpool line. I had felt a bit of frustration rising as we were being asked to make do with even less space, but then realized everyone was feeling the same way. I opted to laugh at the silliness of the situation. The necessity of keeping 200+ kids spaced three feet apart but not too close to the cars coming in to pick them up is a ridiculous situation... laughable even. My husband and I adopted this response to minor frustrations when we were foster parents. We'd tell each other, "If I wasn't laughing, I'd be crying." Finding the humor in minor frustrations makes it much easier to tolerate them.

We have had several teachers out on Friday, most taking professional development required to work at an International Baccalaureate World School. One of the subs in the building was a Sister, who is at least in her 70s. She was walking into classrooms during her breaks with a paper snowflake hanging from her glasses and asking kids if she had on the right kind of mask. (She had a paper face mask on underneath it as well.) There is nothing quite like seeing an elderly Sister walking around the hallways with a paper snowflake hanging off of her glasses. I'm still smiling.

My students loved the thank-you cards I had them write the week before Thanksgiving. Some of them have already brought in donations so we can write thank-yous weekly. This week I recieved four cards from my students. One very earnestly told me to be sure to check my "teacher box thing in the office" as she was leaving for the day. All four of the cards were sincere and tugged at my heartstrings. But one made me laugh out loud with the message: "I am veary thankful for having a teacher that is veary dead set on teaching us."

This weekend was report card weekend. Having the thank-you cards to look at sustained me when my eyes went blurry from looking at the screen for too many hours in a row. Even though writing report card comments is tiring, there's joy there too. It's fun to reflect on each child's progress in each subject. It reminds me of how privileged I am to have a small part in so many children's lives.

There is joy everywhere. I hope I can always spy it lurking nearby. I know it's there if I look for it. I hope I always remember to look for it.