Back to School Gift

It is that time of year.

Store aisles are filled with folders, paper, crayons, and pencils.  Our mail contains the best sales for school supplies.  Although they've done hours of Pinterest PD, texting, and emailing, teachers are officially meeting to prepare for classrooms full of kids.

Yes, it is back to school time!

As parents, we usually get our child's teachers a gift for Christmas, Valentine's Day, and Teacher Appreciation Day.  But what about a Back to School Gift?

As a teacher, the best (and I think only) back to school gift I have gotten was a note from a parent. It let me know that she had been praying for me and our school year. I taped it to the pullout on my desk and read it several times throughout the year.

I cherished that note.

Teachers have a wonderfully stressful job.

We love our students. We call them "our kids" - forever. We see these students in ways their parents will never see them.  We laugh with them. We cry with them.  We hug them when they celebrate and when their worlds are falling apart.

Teachers do more than teach. And to know that a parent was praying for me, praying for our school year.....that meant so much to me.

Parents, we do need your prayers.  Your children need your prayers. It is a crazy awful world we live in.  So many uncertainties. So much evil.  For some of these children the school is their safe place. The school is their guaranteed meal. The school is where they are loved and cherished.

I've come to realize in my many years of teaching that some of these students that I call "my kids" need me to teach them reading and writing.  Others need me to teach them love, compassion, and responsibility. And others, those children need to be loved and cherished and told they are indeed someone special, someone who is fearfully and wonderfully made.

So, parents, pray for us.  Pray for us to be what these precious children need us to be.  Pray for us to see them as more than a test score. Pray for us to show patience, love, and understanding while we stretch their minds and push them to succeed. Pray for us to protect them from bullies and self harm. Pray for us to see them as God our Father sees us.   Please, pray for us.

And then, I ask you this....Would you please show us grace and mercy?  We teachers are human. We mess up. We jump to conclusions. We get tired and frustrated. Life happens to us as it does to everyone. So, please, show us grace.

And then if you want to....send coffee.

Small Victories

A few months back, my teaching plans were thrown for a loop. After years of teaching fourth grade language arts, I got the news....

5th grade

all subject areas

including math

Yes.

Math.

For whatever reason, math just isn't my thing.  I was a decent math student in school. But having to do math on the fly is difficult.  I need to write it out, think about it.  Check my work.  Math was a private matter because I lacked confidence.  I knew I was better with words.  Reading them. Writing them.  Words were my thing.

Needless to say, my new teaching position within my school brought me much anxiety.

But here I am. Thirteen days into the new school year. I've taught 10 days of math.  Although I am totally behind where most of the other teachers are, I am refusing to compare myself to them.  I am, after all, a first year teacher with 15 years experience!  I am a brand new math teacher.  I am learning the content. There is no way I can teach it and keep up with the teachers who've made a career out of it already.

I can only do what I ask my students to do.  I am doing my best.

I'm taking it one day at a time. And that's working for me.

My actual lessons don't always match what my weekly overview says.  I'm teaching students. They aren't concerned with my weekly overview.  They need to "get it" before I move on.

And as we are learning together, my students and I, we are looking for those small victories.  The ones where the end of class comes and students are telling me, "Math was great today."  The ones where more and more students are engaged and participating. The ones where I get blog comments that tell me the assignment I gave was great.

Yes.  Those are the small victories.

I am thankful for the Internet and those math geniuses who are sharing their knowledge.

I am thankful for students who believe in their teacher and don't give up.

I am thankful for this opportunity (although I didn't ask for it) to grow and step out of my comfort zone.

Small victories.

Keep'em coming!

I'd love for you to check out my class blog to see what we are learning.  Click here to head over there.

A Letter to My Students

Dear Student,

What a year it has been (You can insert the year that you were in my class).  There were tears and laughter (from me).  I bet you didn't know that about me did you?  I'm certain I didn't learn everything I needed to about you either.  I'm sorry for that.

Student, you are a part of me.  You think that just because you called me Mrs. Grimes that our relationship stops at the classroom door at 3:00.  It doesn't.

My heart smiled each time you slipped up and called me Mama, and my heart laughed when you slipped and called me Grandma.  My heart melted when I slipped in the hallway, and you lifted me up off the floor. Yes, you are a part of my heart.

I cried for you when I knew things weren't right at home and knew there was nothing I could do about it although I called the right officials.  Some things are just out of my hands.  I cried for you when you were sad. Do your remember that time you ran into my arms and cried, "I don't know why my mama doesn't want anything to do with me?"  I'll never forget that. My heart broke for you.

My Dearest Student, you are more than you will ever know.  You are priceless and full of potential.  That's why I pushed you. That's why I repeated, "Failure is NOT an option."  I tried to get you to understand that I lay claim to you from the moment your name is on my roster.  I want nothing but the best for you. That's why we had that visit from the police when you continued to steal from me.  I want to see your name in the paper your successes, not because you made the Police Beat.

I'm not sure what you learned from me. Maybe some reading and writing. Maybe some compassion and integrity.  Maybe you learned that you are loved.

No matter how bad you acted, I still loved you, and I still love you.  Even you - the fourth grade class of 2000-2001. Whether you are grown and married or whether you walked out my door yesterday on the last day of school, you are a part of my life.  I may not always remember your name and face immediately, but it will come back to me.  I've enjoyed being reunited with you in the Wal-Mart parking lot, The Dollar Tree, Cracker Barrel, and UrgentCare.

You'll never guess that I learned so much from you.  I learned quickly that you are much more than a test score.  You are an individual. You have fears and dreams. All you wanted was to get that A, but a C was your best. I loved celebrating that with you.  I learned that your home life just sucks sometimes. Yes, your teacher just said sucks.  When I dropped you off at your house that day you missed the bus, I was terrified when I saw where you lived.  When I met your guardians, I understood why you never wanted to leave for long breaks.  When you didn't come to school that day, I was worried about your safety, your health, your life.  I learned that I loved you more than I imagined a teacher could love her students.

And while I have your attention, I want to apologize to you.  I want to say I'm sorry for the times I lost my patience with you, the times I should have been loving and understanding.  The times I raised my voice to you. Sometimes I forgot that you were just a child.  Please forgive me for those times.  If I ever made you feel less that special, I am sorry. You are an amazing person. I, I am a sinner who makes mistakes and sometimes those mistakes hurt those we love.  And I do love you.

So, Dear Student,  I hope you know that I ask about you. I check up on you. Whether I check on you through Facebook, acquaintances, or by walking across the building, I care about you and what you are doing.  Like a parent, I care about how you turn out.  Are you successful? Are you married? Are you making good grades? Are you showing love and kindness to others?  Are you trying your best?  Because that's all I ever asked you to do anyway.....to try your best.  To reach in deep and make the world take notice of how amazingly awesome you truly are.  I saw it when you walked in my door on that first day of school. My wish then and now is that you see it each time you look in the mirror.

Now, I don't know if you think of me when you look back on your elementary school days.  I don't consider myself a #1 teacher, but I do the best that I can.  I hope that when you do think of me, you will remember at least one good thing about me.  Here's some of the things I remember about you:

I remember that note you wrote to me when you told me my smile reminded you of your mom and that you think of her when you see me.  That's a good thing. I know how much you loved your mama, and I still can't imagine what it was like for you to lose her to cancer at such a young age.

I remember when you walked into my room on the first day of school, and I knew your name. You didn't know how I knew. It was written on your backpack.

I remember when you walked in to my room, and you were taller than me. You a 10 year old. Me a 22 year old.  I remember thinking, "What have I gotten myself into???"

I remember you as a third grader when I told you what we would be doing in class, and your face lit up with excitement.

I remember that trip to the Nashville Zoo and how amazed you were to see the many sights along the interstate.  It was an eye opener to me that you'd never been out of our hometown.

I remember that day you laughed.  It was the first time I heard your laugh all year.  I fought back tears.

I remember you thanking me for giving you a C. I reminded you that you earned it and worked really hard for it.

I remember that night at Open House when you sat down and flipped your desk. Oh, my!  I thought we were in for a rowdy year!  But we had a great one.

I remember that note you wrote to me and thanked me for believing in you, that I was a great teacher because I saw the potential in all of my students.

See, Dear Student? I remember you!

So, wherever you are in your life's journey, please know that I love you. I care about you. I want nothing but the best for you.  Why? Because when you walked into my classroom on the first day of school, you became one of my kids.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Grimes

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

You know you're a teacher when.....

You pray for snow days just as much as the students.

Finding a movie that matches Common Core Standards is a piece of cake when you come to work sick because it is more work to make sub plans.

A new stapler, pencil sharpener, or hole punch makes you giddy.

You cringe when you hear those words.....Common Core. It's almost like when the hyenas say, "Mufasa" on The Lion King.

Talking in your sleep consists of asking your husband if he turned in his lunch money.

You think Valentine's Day in an elementary school is cruel and unusual punishment.

One of your best friends is known as the Snow Fairy.

GoNoodle is your best friend on rainy days, cold days, and days you just need a little extra recess.

You see a cooler at Wal-Mart and immediately know how it can be used in the classroom to teach mythological terms.

Your last 3 Facebook posts were thanking coworkers for food.

You practically bathe in Germ X.

You get so excited listening to Barbed Wire and Roses on your old Pinmonkey CD because you can use it to teach figurative language.

You've actually asked your own children to be a a Voice Level 0 (more than once).

The best gift a student can give is a Starbucks card and school supplies.

You have NO FEAR  and are NEVER SURPRISED because you have seen and heard it all.. This fact causes you to have a Pinterest board called Teacher Fun.

The Teacher

She walks into the classroom

As she has done many times before.

Hoping for a good day,

She begins.

Speaking of verbs, Shakespeare, and Cummings, 

She seems to enjoy what she does.

With each red mark she makes,

She wonders if it was her fault.

Answering our questions,

Guiding us through their education,

She tries her best

And prays she is making us see.

With each perfect paper

And each smiling face,

She is sure of the life she has chosen;

She is the teacher.

This poem was written in 1994 for my high school English teacher, Linda Chaney.  She was a teacher who inspired and encouraged me.

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week.  I encourage you to find a teacher and do something nice for that person.  A teacher's work doesn't stop when the bell rings each afternoon.  We carry our children home in our hearts long after the end of the day.

Thank a Teacher

In honor of Teacher Appreciation Week, I have reposting some of my past "teacher" posts.  This was originally posted on May 8, 2009

If you are reading this, thank a teacher.

Can you remember all of the teachers you ever had?
Mrs. Bayles, Mrs. Bruce, Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Hughes, Mrs. Hammock, Mrs. Metcalf, Mrs. Drake, Mrs. Parks, Mrs. Warden, Mrs. Cardwell, Mrs. Copass, Coach Conkin, Coach Atcher, Mr. Hale, Mr. Ragland, Mrs. Pais, Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Raines, Mrs. Cothern, Mrs. Ditmore, Mrs. Callahan, Mr. Cash, Mrs. Gray, Mrs. Harrell, Mrs. Pence, Coach Shelton, Mrs. Rhea, Mrs. Chaney, Mr. Waddle, Mrs. Bradley, Coach Murphree, Coach Bell, Mrs. Perkins, Mrs. Jernigan, Mr. Tyler, Mr. Vejr, Coach Hooks, Ms. Meguire, Mrs. Ware, Mr. Almond, Ms. Lacy, Mr. Smethers, Ms. Matthews, Mrs. Ellis, and Ms. Vincent.

Elementary started out easier and high school was difficult. I may have left someone off, but overall, it wasn't that hard to compile this list. Each person above made an impression and that's why I remember them. One in particular was a teacher that I had a total personality conflict with, but I learned a lot from her.

This week was Teacher Appreciation Week.

With a lot of drama within our school this week, many of us felt very under appreciated. We've just finished up 2 weeks of testing, there were 3 fights on my team, and we are all wondering what we are teaching next year and who are we teaching with. Some lunch plans that all the teachers were depending on didn't quite happen and I could go on and on.

Then this afternoon, one of our student workers brought me a note. I noticed it was beautifully colored so I knew it was by a child. I read it with my class watching and fought back tears.

Let me back up to last year.

I had a difficult group of 5th graders. Of course there were the ones that were going to do whatever was asked, no problem. But the majority of them just didn't care if they were there or not. There were a handful of girls that were making bad choices. These girls were so smart and I could see they were clearly wasting their opportunity to succeed. There was one I was really drawn too. Quiet, cute, smart, and hurting. You see, both her parents were in the military and mom was in Iraq. She missed her badly. What girl truly doesn't want her mama? For whatever reason, she was becoming closer to some of the girls that weren't making good choices. Her attitude changed and her grades began to drop. I admit, I was hard on her. I gave her tough love simply because I saw the potential in her to do great things. I worried about her and talked to her several times about the change I had seen in her.

Until recently, I rarely saw this student. We would bump into each other during futsol games and that was about it. Now, we see each other quite often due to baseball season. I've enjoyed seeing her. I can tell that her demeanor has changed. She doesn't seem to be the same child that left my room. She's more like the one who began that school year.

To make a long story short (too late), the letter she sent to me was just what I needed. My job is not about a schedule or teammates. Its not about positions, lunches, and testing. My job is about making a difference. Regardless of how I felt at the end of last school year, I had proof today that I did make a difference. Those words in that letter erased all the hurt, frustration, and anger I have felt at work this week. It showed me what was important. It showed me that even though I don't feel like it sometimes, even in the darkest moments of those school days, I still touch lives and make a difference.

I am blessed to be a teacher.

Please, if you don't have children in school or don't have contact with your former teachers, find one and thank him/her for what she/he does. If you do have a child with a teacher, its not too late. Thank that teacher.

With a lot of jobs, you clock out and that's it. Not with teaching. Yes, we plan and we teach, but we do so much more that that. We love and we care. We show kindness and give respect when we don't feel like it. We bring home the emotional stress of not being able to bring kids home with us because we know their needs are not met at home. We spend time worrying if they are going to be beaten when they get home because of the behavior report or bad grade. We cry when they cry. We laugh when they laugh. Teaching is not a job. Its a an opportunity. An opportunity to touch lives, to change lives, to give hope.

I am blessed to be a teacher.

Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it. 
Proverbs 22:6.

Why I Do What I Do

When we were school age children, we would get so excited to see our teachers "outside of class" on the weekends or during the evenings.  I guess we all figured they lived at school.  It's so funny because times haven't changed.  When I see my students out and about, they seemed shocked to see me outside of room 206.

This being a teacher gig is more than just teaching reading, math, and science.  It is about teaching children.  That's what I do.  But why?

There are so many days I ask myself the same question.  The days a nine year old cusses me or threatens me or another student. The days half the class makes an F on a test that I felt they were totally prepared for. The days that have heated discussions with parents because they think the school is picking on their children.  The days when I'd rather be stranded on an island than sit through one more PLC, faculty meeting, or content planning.  The days when teaching is out of the question, and it is just about surviving until 3 o'clock.

So, why?  Why do I do what I do?

I think the last sentence of  this note I got from a student says it.....

There are kids that don't get hugs. There are kids that have never been told "I love you." There are kids that come from nothing and more than likely are on a path to nothing.  There are the kids whose parents are too busy with their own lives that they never ask for homework, check folders, or make an appearance at a conference.  There are kids whose parents get them out of every ounce of trouble they find themselves in only to place the blame on an adult because their kids are just perfect.

Then there are the other kids.  There are kids that their parents make sure homework is done. There are kids who take the assignment one step further because they just want to.  There are kids that are encouraged and loved and kissed and told, "you're great" every single day.

Why do I do what I do?  Because there are these kids,  regardless of what color they are or what neighborhood they're from or who their parents are, or that have a disability or are gifted, these kids, they have potential.  I want them to be the best they can be.

If a child's best is a C-, I'm going to push them to get that C-.

If a child never does their homework at home, I am going to give them time each day to get it done before class.

If a child has never been loved, I am going to love him.

If a child is more than just a kid in a wheelchair, I'm going to push him out of his comfort zone and the limitations others have put on him.

These kids are my kids for 9 months of the year.  It is up to me to show them what they can do if only they try.  It is up to me to love them, to hold them when they cry.  It is up to me to high five them, laugh with them, and encourage them.

I am not their friend. I am their teacher.

It is up to me to show them what I see in them and open the door so they can pursue something more than their circumstance.

In my fourteen years of teaching elementary school, I have had approximately 1,000 students.  That is 1,000 lives I've touched.  I am about half way through my teaching career, so double that.  I will have touched about 2,000 lives (if that isn't right, I am sorry. I am a language arts teacher, not a math teacher).  That is the size of some small towns.

Imagine the potential in those numbers.  Those kids can make difference in this world.  I am a piece of that path.  My hope is that something I say or do will create a spark in them to light the world afire with great things.

Teaching is like sowing the seeds of Christ.  You may never see the harvest of the seeds you planted.  There are kids that I see now as adults who are in the military, who are in college, who are becoming colleagues (wow that makes me feel old). I see that they are doing great things.  But others, I may never know if anything I did made an impact.  And if not me, maybe someone did, maybe someone saw their potential and helped open a door.


So, why do I do what I do?  Because there are these kids, and they have potential.

Why I do what I do

I got a letter today from one of my former students. It went something like this....

Hi. I miss you so much!  I'm writing to tell you what an awesome, fun, and amazing teacher you are. I'm also going to have to tell you goodbye for the last time because I am going to middle school next year. 

I'm going to start out by telling you how much I learned from you. I learned to turn everything bad into something good. I have made so many friends by always being in a good mood even when I'm not having a good day. You taught me so many academic things, in a way that none of my teacher done (no offense Mrs. Winston, Mrs. Tucker, and Ms. Goodlad).

This may sound a little cheesy, but every time I see you it puts me in a good mood. Everyday I purposely walk by you to go to the library, and believe me, it would have saved a lot of energy the other way. Its worth it though. Even when I'm in a bad mood, you make me happy. You are the best teacher I've ever had.

Well, this isn't the last time I'll talk to you, but I hope you keep this and remember me for a long time. Oh, yeah, if you are still teaching when I'm out of high school, I'll come visit you. So, goodbye. I'll miss you next year.

Sincerely,
Cheyenne

Pie Anyone?

On Monday, we celebrated with students who performed well on their latest assessments.  They had the opportunity to "purchase" tickets to throw a pie at our principal.  Well, students began making special requests of faculty they wanted to throw a pie at.

 Pictured above is our Guidance Counselor, Principal, Assistant Principal, Me, and our PE teacher.

We had lots of fun. Our PE teacher was the big winner of the event as you can tell.  Colin was so excited to get to throw a pie at his mama!

Thank a Teacher

If you are reading this, thank a teacher.

Can you remember all of the teachers you ever had?
Mrs. Bayles, Mrs. Bruce, Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Hughes, Mrs. Hammock, Mrs. Metcalf, Mrs. Drake, Mrs. Parks, Mrs. Warden, Mrs. Cardwell, Mrs. Copass, Coach Conkin, Coach Atcher, Mr. Hale, Mr. Ragland, Mrs. Pais, Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Raines, Mrs. Cothern, Mrs. Ditmore, Mrs. Callahan, Mr. Cash, Mrs. Gray, Mrs. Harrell, Mrs. Pence, Coach Shelton, Mrs. Gray, Mrs. Chaney, Mr. Waddle, Mrs. Bradley, Coach Murphree, Coach Bell, Mrs. Perkins, Mrs. Jernigan, Mr. Tyler, Mr. Vejr, Coach Hooks, Ms. Meguire, Mrs. Ware, Mr. Almond, Ms. Lacy, Mr. Smethers, Ms. Matthews, Mrs. Ellis, and Ms. Vincent.

Elementary started out easier and high school was difficult. I may have left someone off, but overall, it wasn't that hard to compile this list. Each person above made an impression and that's why I remember them. One in particular was a teacher that I had a total personality conflict with, but I learned a lot from her.


This week was Teacher Appreciation Week.

With a lot of drama within our school this week, many of us felt very under appreciated. We've just finished up 2 weeks of testing, there were 3 fights on my team, and we are all wondering what we are teaching next year and who are we teaching with. Some lunch plans that all the teachers were depending on didn't quite happen and I could go on and on.

Then this afternoon, one of our student workers brought me a note. I noticed it was beautifully colored so I knew it was by a child. I read it with my class watching and fought back tears.

Let me back up to last year.

I had a difficult group of 5th graders. Of course there were the ones that were going to do whatever was asked, no problem. But the majority of them just didn't care if they were there or not. There were a handful of girls that were making bad choices. These girls were so smart and I could see they were clearly wasting their opportunity to succeed. There was one I was really drawn too. Quiet, cute, smart, and hurting. You see, both her parents were in the military and mom was in Iraq. She missed her badly. What girl truly doesn't want her mama? For whatever reason, she was becoming closer to some of the girls that weren't making good choices. Her attitude changed and her grades began to drop. I admit, I was hard on her. I gave her tough love simply because I saw the potential in her to do great things. I worried about her and talked to her several times about the change I had seen in her.

Until recently, I rarely saw this student. We would bump into each other during futsol games and that was about it. Now, we see each other quite often due to baseball season. I've enjoyed seeing her. I can tell that her demeanor has changed. She doesn't seem to be the same child that left my room. She's more like the one who began that school year.

To make a long story short (too late), the letter she sent to me was just what I needed. My job is not about a schedule or teammates. Its not about positions, lunches, and testing. My job is about making a difference. Regardless of how I felt at the end of last school year, I had proof today that I did make a difference. Those words in that letter erased all the hurt, frustration, and anger I have felt at work this week. It showed me what was important. It showed me that even though I don't feel like it sometimes, even in the darkest moments of those school days, I still touch lives and make a difference.

I am blessed to be a teacher.

Please, if you don't have children in school or don't have contact with your former teachers, find one and thank him/her for what she/he does. If you do have a child with a teacher, its not too late. Thank that teacher.

With a lot of jobs, you clock out and that's it. Not with teaching. Yes, we plan and we teach, but we do so much more that that. We love and we care. We show kindness and give respect when we don't feel like it. We bring home the emotional stress of not being able to bring kids home with us because we know their needs are not met at home. We spend time worrying if they are going to be beaten when they get home because of the behavior report or bad grade. We cry when they cry. We laugh when they laugh. Teaching is not a job. Its a an opportunity. An opportunity to touch lives, to change lives, to give hope.

I am blessed to be a teacher.

Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6.