Growing up, I always knew I wanted to be a teacher. In my mind, there was no one better.
Teachers were magical…Their rooms held millions of books- adventures just waiting to be taken. The days were filled with learning- something new and exciting each day. Scented Mr. Sketch markers littered the room (and would later lead to my insane obsession with them years later) just waiting for smaller hands to create masterpieces with them.
Teachers were an inspiration…They encouraged students to always give their best attempt. That their past did not define their future- they could do whatever they put their head, and heart, into. Hugs were dolled out and smiles were given freely, daily.
Teachers made a difference…They provided stability, to all students. They were an extra pair of helping hands, listeners of exciting news and frustrated rants, a smile on a cloudy day, tutoring sessions after school for extra help. Teachers didn’t give up, they were full of love.
Now, years later and a teacher myself, I still find myself in awe of this profession…and feeling so lucky to be a part of it (most days!)
I teach a wonderful group of 7th and 8th graders that are constantly keeping me on my toes- laughing with (and at) me, cracking jokes, sharing snippets of their day, trusting me to help solve their problems when they are maybe just a bit too large for them to tackle themselves. In my classroom, we are a family.
Teaching is a humbling experience…an opportunity to reach out to students in need. Make connections, build lasting bonds that help lead students down the right path. To teach students that they are so much more than where they may come from- that their past doesn’t have to define their future- that they have power and control to decide what their futures will hold.
Teachers are magical…they inspire…they make a difference.