Writer's Corner Wednesday, Vol. 8

Hello, friends!

I have had one crazy week, and it's only Wednesday! We spent Monday and Tuesday preparing our third and second grade kiddos for their big concert for their parents on Tuesday night, and it was absolute insanity. We're talking about coordinating around 200 kids between the ages of 7 and 10. Insanity.

So I didn't get home yesterday evening until almost 7:30, and today I helped with my Principal's after school guitar program, so I got home around 5:30. It's just been a long few days. Today we took spring pictures, and tomorrow we'll take our class picture. I have to figure out what to wear!

Ugh, anyway...I thought today I'd do another sort of narrative writing for you. The topic came to me as I was driving home today. I started thinking about how teaching is such a hard profession. As teachers, we do way more work than anyone could possibly imagine, and there's a lot of frustration. A LOT. But the things that get me through are the small moments. So I thought I'd write about those for you today.

Small Moments

Yesterday was his birthday.

You know the type: quiet (sort of), labeled "disadvantaged" because of where he comes from.

He doesn't have much; he's had his share of tragedy...and yesterday was his tenth birthday.

He's the kind of kid whose eyes dart around a lot, like he's used to looking out for himself.

But yesterday, his one wish was that his class would sing to him.

So just before the end of the day, with my arm around him, we sang.

That smile was amazing.

It was pure, unadulterated joy...just for a song.

Today I was working with some kids learning to play the guitar.

(I'm not expert myself, but I know enough to help them with the basics.)

We were learning a few chords today, and I was moving from group to group.

I sat down with a trio of girls and asked them to show me what they'd learned.

They hesitantly played through the chords, and I showed them how they can figure out which of their fingers needs to be pressed harder on the strings.

When she strummed the chord and every string rang out, there was that smile, again.

She could see the possibility of success more clearly than before, and I helped her get there!

I made friends with one kid a couple of weeks ago at guitar practice.

He's a fifth grader, but he's also got some delays, and his speech is slightly affected.

But I learned his name, and we talked.

Sometimes it's just about giving someone the same treatment as everyone else.

Sometimes it isn't about feeling different or special; it's about feeling normal.

Now every time he passes in the hall, I get that same special smile that says to me:

Thanks for just being my friend.

Teaching is a struggle.

It's a lot of days that seem long.

It's a lot of time spent wondering when things will finally click and if they even heard anything you said today.

But that moment...that smile.

It was on the face of my student as he figured out a fraction equivalence chain today.

It was on the faces of our second and third graders as their parents (and teachers) gave them a standing ovation after their concert.

It's fleeting, and if you blink you might miss it.

But keep your eyes open for it and it will become the warmth that sustains you when you're feeling burned out.

Small moments.

They're what teaching is all about.

Until tomorrow,

♥ Marlee