No matter how long you are in the classroom, when you step away for a stitch, you immediately start. The more time, the more you morph from experienced teacher to newborn fledgling.
After four years out, it all comes flooding back…
The little pencils personal best competition held by every elementary school student in the history of the world.
Nearly falling after rolling on one of said little pencils. How on earth does that physics compute?
The magical disappearing powers of glue sticks, erasers on the ends of pencils, and caps of markers.
The times you catch yourself saying, please open your eyes when you walk or I’d rather we didn’t take this time in math to teach everyone the worm.
The opportunities you get to just go with it, like say, when your kiddo brings a frog to school in his backpack. Bam! Frog Inquiry.
The thread you get to pull through from the beginning of your day to the end of it, to the next day, to the next, to the next.
How you end up doing the wiggly arm balloon man celebration that the resident dancer created and that’s just how you and your crew roll.
That you do in fact have residencies: a dancer, an artist, an animal expert, a tech whiz, a mediator, a teacher, a ray of sunshine, and they’re all ready for anyone who needs em at the drop of a hat.
The collection of clattering change for book orders when kids scrape the bottoms of piggy banks to buy books themselves and your book loving heart might just burst out your chest.
So, yes. A lot of things come back after you’ve stepped away for a bit or a while. Yes, Some make me want to pull my hair out. And many leave me exhausted at the end of each day.
But I have a wiggly arm balloon man celebration and a ray of sunshine to turn it all around.
And that just makes my day.