Skip to main content

I Miss Them


They were my introduction to the south. They attempted to teach me the country way of doing things. They trusted me not only in the classroom, but also with honest writing. They came to me when they needed someone to tutor them, offer a kind word or just to listen. We laughed together. We made memories in the classroom. I went back for a visit today.

There is something magical about visiting students of the past. They think back fondly to the time we spent together. The piles of homework I assigned, forgotten. Today when I walked into the lunchroom at Benson Middle School, I was greeted with hugs and smiles. For the thirty minute lunch period, I bounced from table to table. Each table wanting me to stay longer, other tables calling me over. Why were they so happy to see me? I was just another teacher in their lives, some I didn’t even have in class. What made my visit so exciting that they talked about it all morning before I arrived? Why do I miss them all so much?

I have stated on many occasions that I miss working with the kids in Benson. I genuinely like them. Not only are they great kids and fun to teach, I also know how to work with the issues they bring to the table. I have experience helping kids figure out things relating to drugs, sex, abuse, relationships, cutting, gangs, and the list goes on. I am good at it. I am no longer a teacher there, but was given an office to use to help a couple of students through some tough issues they were facing. (I won’t go into details as it is not my story to tell.) Any shadows of animosity I may have been feeling due to being cut, was wiped away with the small action of giving me a time and place to do what I do. Talk to kids when they need it. Thank you, Mrs. Singleton and Mrs. Bazemore.

Students have a way of climbing into my heart and taking up residence. The students of BMS last year did just that. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Hardest One Yet

 From the time I began this blog, I made the conscious choice that I would be honest and open in the moment – whatever is going on. For the most part, I have done that.  After struggling about whether to write about this particular challenge (let alone share it), I chose to do the uncomfortable and do both – write and share. “Your certification has not even been processed yet. Probably won’t happen until at least the middle of January.”  I took a deep breath as I heard those words a couple weeks ago and I realized what that meant. Christmas would look very different than originally planned. The retroactive pay that Santa was counting on to make the holiday something special for our family would not be coming. I took a deep breath as I hung up the phone and walked out of my classroom, despair bombarding the hope and excitement of the upcoming holiday. A tornado of thoughts began whirling in my head as I walked to the guidance office. Playing with our budget in my head trying to
7 comments
Read more

The Next Chapter Begins...

The first round of tears happened during the 8 th grade promotion. It has been such a wonderful year with all of them – 7 th and 8 th graders alike. The second round of tears came when I learned I do not have a contract for next year. I will not be returning to Benson Middle School unless the displaced teachers do not jump at the chance for my classroom.   Right after she told me, I did my best to remain professional and keep the tears at bay. Unfortunately, they came anyway. About the time the tears hit my eyes, an email a dear friend sent me when I first wrote about the contract situation came to mind: “There is always a reason for things. Maybe God wants you to move on and inspire other students.” I love what she says. I feel that with my whole being. However, it did not make hearing that I have no job any easier. So now what? I am floating off the edge again. My family began the year in two different states. We are reunited again in North Carolina. Both Tony and I with
7 comments
Read more

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing
2 comments
Read more