Two weeks ago, I drove my kids to their school. It’s summer, so it’s understandable that they would be confused as to why we were there. I told them to get out of the car and then, when they inevitably asked the question, “Why are we here?”, I told them, “I wanted to show you my new office.”
That’s right. I’m going back to the classroom. I’ll be teaching 2nd grade. I previously taught at the high school level. 2nd grade is a whole new bag. More on that in a moment. First, let me review my children’s responses to my big news:
5th grader: “What? You got fired?”
1st grader (while jumping up and down): “Does that mean you’ll be my teacher next year?”
8th grader: “So, you get summers off? Sweet, I don’t have to babysit anymore.”
Overall, they are very excited about me teaching again. The older two remember what it was like when I taught. I had summers off. We had epic adventures. They saw more of me.
I’ll admit, I have an ocean of emotions splashing over/around/through me.
Those are the top three.
Teaching 2nd grade – well, teaching in general – comes with such responsibility. These children, these sponges, these impressionable little people are in my care. What they learn has the power to impact their entire lives. Don’t you have that teacher you remember? Surely you can name at least one that changed your life for the better. I am blessed to say I have several.
So, here I go. Ready to start a new adventurous chapter in my life. A classroom full of kids, still young enough to be eager to learn, filled with energy, excitement and snot. Yes, I know, I know. My immune system will likely be in overdrive this year. But, hey, it will make for more good stories (names redacted, of course.)