Sweet things...

I am feeling the need to be reminded of the successes of this profession. Grade cards come out tomorrow, parents are upset about student performance and I think some blame me for their child's failing grade. How do you fail sixth grade reading? You don't try. There it is, plain and simple. By sixth grade, if you don't play the school game, you will fail. No more satisfactory or unsatisfactory, long gone is the day of the smiley face report cards. This is the first slap in the face for some parents that their child might not be as bright as they'd always thought.

So, as a teacher, in her first year, who struggles with taking every failing student personally, I feel the need to remind myself about the sweet things of this job- and there are lots.

1. Students who make you genuinely laugh
2. The fact that my entire team of students are e-mail users and familiar with Blackboard online
3. We ALL know what a protagonist is
4. The cards and crap you get on the holidays with sweet little hand drawn pictures and messages like: "Your the bestest!"
5. Feeling excited about trying a new thing in the classroom
6. Hearing quiet when you ask for it
7. All the hilarious school wide assemblies that you wish someone outside of your school life could witness so they could beleive
8. The ac lab conversations with kids about their lives and the things that matter to them
9. The excitment and generosity of kids during this penny war
10. Hearing a kid say, "I'm sorry." and mean it
11. Showing a student something new and having them thank you
12. Creating routines and designing your curriculum- I do really like this part!
13. The Kionas of the world
14. Student e-mails about nothing in particular
15. Finding out they WERE listening


The list could go on. Why not focus on those moments? Why not come home at the end of a day and remind myself of those funny, heartwarming, or important moments in my classroom. I don't want to dwell on the parent e-mails, the list of tihngs to do, or the student failures.

I must remember, I can only do what I can do. I cannot take each student as my own personal responsibility and make them care about things that matter. I have to remember they're 12, life goes on, and perhaps in the wisdom of their later years, they will begin to "get it."