A little over four years ago I stepped into my classroom for the first time, nervous and completely unprepared. On the first day, I stood in front of six classes of freshman English, wondering how in the world I was going to convince them that English was important. As I stared into their faces, I knew I would first have to break down a few walls, because until I proved to them that I was "cool" enough for them to like, there was no way I'd persuade them that learning English is fun (and necessary). I remember taking a huge breath as I stumbled (and struggled) through my introduction, answering their questions, and explaining the ins and outs of English class. Little did I know what was in store for me as that year continued. We laughed - a lot. And we learned - a lot. (and yes, they still remember some of the stories we read, and the things that happened in class. yay!) And I yelled at them - a lot! haha. And there were some days that I just wanted to wring their necks because they were being turds and I couldn't handle it anymore! And over the course of that year, we became a family.
But, four years later, while I eagerly await June 3rd and the end of the school year (can I get an "amen"?), June 3rd will also be a bittersweet day for me.
[My first class is graduating.]
I've already decided that I'll need to get some waterproof mascara for that night.
[though the tears will have started way before that night even begins]
You know, I've heard so many people say that teenagers are rude, and disrespectful (and they are). And, I've heard many teachers complain (consistently) about how horrible kids are and how much they hate their job (so get a new one already).
A group of teenagers changed my life.
We've spent 4 years together. Four years learning, and messing up, and growing up. Four years making memories, attempting to capture unexplainable moments with a single picture, and trying to live each day as best as we can. We've had four years full of bad days, bad attitudes...good days, and good attitudes. Four years of laughter, yelling, tears, smiles. Four years of marching contests, football games, UIL competitions, TAKS tests. Four years of new friendships, and friendships ending...relationships starting and relationship break ups. We've had four years of conversations about life, love, dreams, family, friends, and God. For every moments these kiddos have lived in four years, I have stood on the sideline, watching them live their lives - gladly being a spectator in their high school careers. They are wonderful, amazing, spectacular people.
And, in a few short weeks, it'll be time to say goodbye.
They keep telling me they won't come back, that they're "sick and tired" of high school. But, you know as well as I do, that when August rolls back around - or when they get "bored" one Friday night and end up at a football game - they'll sit in the stands with their friends about how they miss it.
And I hope they do. (at least a little bit)
But, I also hope - and pray - that they step out of Rebel Stadium on the night of June 3rd, and that they take full advantage of the wide open horizon in front of them. I hope they dream BIG, and that they find ways to reach those dreams. And I hope that they don't let ANYONE or ANYTHING stand in the way of them reaching the dreams they so desperately long for.
And I pray...
...for courage, and patience, and perseverance; for belief in themselves, and faith in God. And I pray that they take time to find out who they are, that they are presented with circumstances and moments that will stretch them, and that they step out of their comfort zones to make friends with people at their colleges. I pray that they will step away from Ore City, and experience things/people/etc beyond this small town, but I also pray that they never forget their roots - where they came from, what they've been taught, and those who have been beside them from that first day in kindergarten. :)
Because of them, I questioned becoming a teacher.
Because of them, I signed a contract to try it again a second year.
Because of them, I learned what it means to live life without cliques or popularity groups.
Because of them, I learned that, when you have a bad day, it's okay to cry in front of your students.
Because of them, I learned that being transparent is the BEST policy. Always.
Because of them, I learned that being a teacher isn't about being perfect, but about being real.
Because of them, I learned that being an English teacher isn't just about grammar and literary terms, but about...listening, caring, understanding, accepting, believing, and encouraging. It's about being selfless, and giving of yourself; about how actions speak incredible volumes.
Because of them, I am still a teacher.
Of course, years will pass. I'll experience other classes and other students. I'll teach other novels and create other projects. I'll love other classes just like I love them. This class, though, will always hold a special place in my heart because they were my first class.
As I stand on the sideline on June 3rd, with a camera in my hand so as to mask the tears that will be running down my face, I will proudly watch as my first class become graduates of Ore City High School. I hope they know how proud I am of them - even though I still want to wring their necks sometimes - and how much I love them.
:)
