Teacher’s are so important…

Eloise had a tough year last year.  She didn’t connect well with her teacher. She struggled with making friends.

She struggled, she cried, but she made it through. Is it possible to love this girl even more by the way she persevered through it?

It made me so happy to hear during the past month how excited she was to return to school.  She would say things like “I hope I get a great teacher” and “I hope I have some nice girls in my class.”  She has been hopeful and is now very excited to have the teacher she wanted and on day one is already making some new friends.

We are all hopeful for a better year for her.  We all know that not every year our kids will get the “best” teacher or even make a connection. We also know that some years are going to amazing and perfect in every way.

I could never be a teacher.  And I have no interest to be. So I always do look at teacher’s with awe that they really choose to spend their days with our kids.  It is an honor really.  So, I always hope they at least remember why they are there when I send my kids off on the bus each day.

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I loved school. I can name my favorite teachers off to you one by one.  My list is long.  I can also tell you quite vividly who my worst teacher was.  I can tell you details of how awful she was to me, and to most of my classmates.  I sometimes wonder how many kids she completely screwed up because she was so heartless.

And she taught 1st grade.

I had a lot going on in 1st grade. My parents were getting divorced, my mom went back to school to get her degree and took a part time job.  My 7 year old brother and I became card carrying members of the free lunch program at school and I instead choose to not eat rather than show that card.  I was 6 and I knew what it meant.

My brother and I woke up ourselves each morning. Dressed and ate breakfast and walked to the bus stop ourselves.  We came home to an empty house, were allowed to watch Romper Room, Gilligan’s Island or Sesame Street and had to stay inside until our Mom came home at dinnertime.

My mom let the whole neighborhood know we were alone.  Just in case something happened or we needed someone.  The kind ladies who stayed home, would come knock and check on us.  We would watch the neighbor kids play outside our windows and hope we saw our mom’s car approaching soon so we could go play too.

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