I was leaving my classroom today, sun beginning to set, and as I glanced back over my shoulder to hit the lights, I felt a bit emotional looking at my empty room.
Things look and seem different when the lights go down, when the room is empty, when everyone’s asleep. Suddenly you’re flooded with questions like, “Did I explain that well enough? Did I answer every question? Did I make time for them? Am I pushing them hard enough? Am I pushing them too hard? Did I use kind words? Was I fair? Do they know how much I care? Did I model Jesus for them? Do they know how much they are loved and did they feel it in room 38 today?”
These are the things that flood my mind, anyway.
Because for some reason, when everything is awake, you think of all the things you need to do. Like create science tests. And return emails. And dot the i’s and cross the t’s. The many, many i’s and t’s.
But as soon as everything is asleep, just like when you peek in on your sleeping baby, you forget the to-dos and you see the hearts. The eyes. The faces.
Clockwise from the top left: the welcome sign on my door & the first thing I see when I reach my home away from home every morning. Welcome is the way I hope everyone feels who enters my room.
Next, my stool and my step ladder – both of which I use for a multitude of things every. single. day. My favorite is probably sitting crossed-legged perched on top of the stool while I teach. It’s comfortable to me and I think it’s funny that the kids ask me how I can sit like that π The step ladder is everything from my foot rest to my side table. I’d like to think some magic happens everyday – right from these 2 ordinary pieces of furniture.
Third is the front of my desk – filled with pictures of friends and family… All of them living in other states. The memories and faces in those pictures give me strength and joy and I just like having those people with me. So since they aren’t with me physically, I magnetize them to my desk π
Bottom-right is essential in every classroom and something I never have to remind my students to do: update the countdown until Christmas break π I love their color-coding π I love their joy.
Bottom-middle is my desk but what I’m looking at is actually past my desk. It’s the WALL of handwritten notes and drawings and thank you cards and encouragements that I receive almost everyday from the most amazing pre-teens: the children that I’m blessed to call my students. I seriously can’t think of a more rewarding profession other than parenting.
And lastly, bottom-left is a sign that a dear friend gave me that simply reads: Life does not have to be perfect to be wonderful. I look at it all the time. I’m not perfect; my students aren’t perfect – but together, I think we are pretty wonderful. We are all growing together and I think it’s both miraculous and magical.
12/9/15: My thoughts, ramblings & emotions when the lights went down today.
Thanks for tuning in β€οΈ