A Beginning...And An End

This is me last August. Three days before the first day of school. One day after I got hired.




When these photos were taken, courtesy of my mom who came to Montrose that day to help me get set up, I was frantic. I had just gotten hired the day before, had to quit my job at Redlands Mesa Golf Club with no notice, was still living 60 miles away in Grand Junction, and had nothing but an empty classroom to work with. Needless to say, the reality that I had just landed my dream job had not yet set in. I was still in that phase where I couldn't convince myself that it had actually happened. I had become a teacher.

Three days later, my classroom was set up, complete with a cursive alphabet, name tags on all the desks, and a word wall. My classroom was ready for the arrival of 19 seven and eight year olds, and I was terrified. I had no idea what to expect, or how to kick off the school year. But, low and behold, that bell rang, the kids entered, and so began "the first year to end all first years," as my principal calls it.

On the first day of school, I had a student throw up. Everywhere. That was the day that I found out how wonderful day-time custodians are. I would have this happen two more times before the end of the year. Within days I had a little boy tell me there was a spider in the doorway. I looked and saw that it was my favorite species of spider - the black widow. I ushered all my kids to the other side of the room, and called the custodian. An hour after he killed it, there was another one in the same spot. That was the day my students learned exactly how I felt about spiders. We would discover three more of them in our safe little classroom before Christmas break. The first time my room mother came in to help out, I took the presence of another adult as an opportunity to run down the hallway to use the staff restroom. That was where I was when we had our first fire drill. That was the day I found out how wonderful my room mother was.

Over the course of the school year, I learned many lessons. I learned how much fun a 90 minute commute to work isn't, and quickly moved in with another teacher at the school. I learned that third graders have a lot more wit than I ever gave them credit for. I learned that forgetting to send in your roll and lunch count isn't the end of the world, but it drives the secretary and cooks crazy. I learned that meeting with a group of six kids and keeping the other 13 on task is harder than it looks. Make-up work is a pain in the rear - for the absentees and the teacher. Science experiments are a lot of fun, but they are also messy, so don't do them on the day that the custodian quits. Popcorn is not the best snack to have during a movie. If a kid brings cupcakes to school for a birthday, have the party right before the bus bell rings. If a child tells you they need to use the bathroom, believe them, even if it is in the middle of a math lesson. It is never a good idea to go out with your co-workers on a school night. Seeing the look on the face of a child who struggles, when they finally get it, is priceless. A hug a day is good for you. 19 hugs twice a day is better.

Most importantly, I learned this year that being a teacher is the best decision I ever made. Throughout this school year, it never really occured to me that I was getting up and going to work. The only time I felt like I was "at work," was during staff meetings and inservices. When I did need a day off, and called a sub, I felt guilty all day that I wasn't with my kids. Paid days off are great, but they aren't that special when you actually like what you get paid to do.

This week, I was able to forget that it was the last week. As I gorged myself on Dominoes pizza with my students, ran the bases in the staff versus 5th grade kickball game while hearing my third graders cheer me on, doused myself, my students, and my classroom in shaving cream, threw myself head first down a slip and slide fully clothed, and got attacked by 19 kids with wet sponges, I was able to forget how soon I would be putting them on the bus for the last time. It was a spectacular week, where I got to be a kid with them. It was a spectacular week that ended in tears and tough goodbyes.

If I would have had a camera yesterday, the shots would have been very similar to the ones taken at the beginning of the year. Text books collected, counted, and put away. Student work coming down off the wall. Desks and chairs cleaned and stacked. Word wall taken down. Tons of cards, pictures, stuffed animals and plants, given to me throughout the year, packed up to go home, because I cannot bear to get rid of them. Computer unplugged, and overhead covered. Yesterday, I literally put away my first year of teaching. It was a lot harder than setting it up, in many ways. And, although I only had one day rather than the three I was granted in August, I was anything but in a hurry.

So here I sit, my first day of summer break. All my little busy bees have flown away. I will see them all again in 12 weeks, but they will not be my kids anymore. They will continue to move up the hallway, until they eventually graduate out of elementary school status. I can only hope that they will continue to come see me, at least for a while, and that they will look back fondly at their third grade teacher- the teacher who was terrified of spiders, was late everywhere she went, and had the "ballerina hairdo."

In August, I will head back into my deserted classroom, and begin the process of getting it ready again. There will be new names on all the desks and mailboxes, and new faces staring back at me on the first day of my second year. I am sure that I will love my second class just as much, and miss them just as much when the final bell of the school year rings. But I truly believe my first class will also be the most special, because they were the ones who first taught me what it means to be a teacher.



By the way, the reality that I have landed my dream job has still not yet kicked in!