Being remembered

The teachers at the school I used to work at went back to get ready for the students last week. It was a tough day for me. Even though I know that Aaron and I made the right choice for me to stay home and take the very best care possible of me, John and Walt while I'm pregnant, a part of me still is a bit sad that I won't be doing a job that I love anymore.

There were parts of teaching 1st grade bilingual kids that I didn't care much for--teaching them all the new rules of 1st grade, reteaching all those rules and the time it took for a new group of kids and their families to trust the redheaded Spanish-speaking teacher.

However, it was always worth it. I enjoyed building relationships with families, especially helping parents see the vital role they play in the education of their children. I also liked the kids. They (overall) were so well-behaved and excited about learning. Last year I had a couple little stinkers in my class, but even they came a long way during the year. Now all that fun will happen without me.

A teacher friend called last night and told me that the school nurse mentioned me during her explanation time. She was making the point that kids shouldn't just come to see her for any little thing. She used me as an example: anytime a child in my class would say he felt sick (if I couldn't feel a very hot forehead and if he hadn't thrown up) I would write on the referral form--in front of the kid and say aloud as I wrote it--if this child doesn't have fever, please send him back. I need him in class so he can learn. The nurse said this is how it should be done.

I guess ideally, the other teachers would sit around and remember how funny I am, or nice to the kids, or what an incredible impact I made on the kids in my classes that I taught there. I'll settle for this happy mention by our nurse. It's just nice to be remembered.