Yesterday was an absolute high point in the term. Most of my course work is done now for winter quarter, with only a couple of finishing touches left, so I'm completely focused on this great group of kids I've been working with, and who I'll be with only another week.
These sixth graders will spend a week in May at an outdoor school on the coast, which is of course a very big deal to them! No one with disciplinary problems or any Fs on their report cards can go, though, so a lot of attention has been paid to grades lately. I've been fielding hourly questions about their grades, working through lunches with our "math club" to get those kids boosted to a passing level, and generally been completely consumed with this room full of personalities.
My cooperating teacher, who's been out for a number of weeks recovering from a car accident, had arranged to swing by yesterday so we could sign a few papers and so she could see the kids for a bit. So I wasn't surprised when she showed up, but when she began instructing the class to stand and read clearly as they took turns sharing the cards they'd made, I was confused. What was she talking about? I'm with the class for about two thirds of every day, and I knew nothing. They sent me to sit on a desk at the front of the room, and one by one all twenty six students and my teacher read thank-you cards they'd made for me! The kids shared their favorite projects that we'd done together and said kids would really want to be in my class and that I'll make a good teacher! One sweetie sitting up front passed me a box of tissues, which was a good thing because I was a teary mess from the get go. I don't know how to describe how touching it was. A mother who volunteers with us every week gave me a quilted flag she'd sewn, with each student's name stitched onto the stripes, and the substitute teacher we've had for the past six weeks gave me a book on developing reading programs. Then my teacher gave me a beautiful big basket with instructions to put any especially great work from students, or letters from parents, or nice cards from kids into the basket over the years. This will be more than a memento stash: it will be a source of inspiration and comfort I can draw upon whenever the going gets tough. It now has a beautiful pile of colorful, handmade cards to remind me of the powerful experience this year has been.
I really love this class, and though I'm looking forward to working with the first graders when we get back from spring break, I'm going to miss these guys! They've taught me far more than I ever expected.
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