On my last day of student teaching, I cried twice.
Once was when one of the other first grade classes that I taught music to called me into their room. The lights were out and no one was in sight. Right on cue, they all jumped out yelling surprise and ran to me. I'm not sure if you've ever felt what it's like to be hugged by 27 little people at the same time while they all shout "We love you!" but I would like to see you try not to cry when it happens.
The second time I cried was at the end of the day. My class, my precious little ones, presented me with their "surprises" that they had been whispering and hinting about all day. They had each written me a note and together they gave me a tiny cactus plant. Because, they breathlessly explained, I had taught them about the desert.
You might think this is when I cried. But it wasn't. It was when they all lined up at the door to leave and four little girls separately stepped out of line as they filed out to each present me with a tiny pinecone they had found at recess.
I had watched these girls for twelve weeks give pinecone after pinecone to my teacher after coming back from recess. At first, I thought she had asked them to collect them for some sort of project. "No," she said, "they just strangely like to give them to me as presents."
Over these same twelve weeks, I'd been given various recess presents: rocks, snowballs, handfuls of leaves and grass, old bandaids - but never a pinecone. Each of those girls shyly smiled and silently placed the pinecones in my hand and turned and walked out the door.
And I knew I was officially a teacher. And I cried.
Once was when one of the other first grade classes that I taught music to called me into their room. The lights were out and no one was in sight. Right on cue, they all jumped out yelling surprise and ran to me. I'm not sure if you've ever felt what it's like to be hugged by 27 little people at the same time while they all shout "We love you!" but I would like to see you try not to cry when it happens.
The second time I cried was at the end of the day. My class, my precious little ones, presented me with their "surprises" that they had been whispering and hinting about all day. They had each written me a note and together they gave me a tiny cactus plant. Because, they breathlessly explained, I had taught them about the desert.
You might think this is when I cried. But it wasn't. It was when they all lined up at the door to leave and four little girls separately stepped out of line as they filed out to each present me with a tiny pinecone they had found at recess.
I had watched these girls for twelve weeks give pinecone after pinecone to my teacher after coming back from recess. At first, I thought she had asked them to collect them for some sort of project. "No," she said, "they just strangely like to give them to me as presents."
And I knew I was officially a teacher. And I cried.
5 comments:
warms my heart, these little tender moments w/ your kids.
you're a teacher now. you did it!
Oh my goodness! This makes me so happy for you. :) What a marvelous thing to find such enchanting work!
Ashley, I loved this post! I'm so excited that your experience has been so good. You're definitely making a difference in the lives of these little ones. :) xo
You are probably the best teacher ever. I mean that!
How sweet. I wished I could of had you for a teacher!
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