Life-long Learner.

As I walked back into my classroom today after dismissing my 23 (24 tomorrow) 2nd graders, I saw only one thing.

My chair.

My feet hurt (and not because of the shoes I was wearing), my eyes itched (this dang wind we're blessed with), and sitting down as quickly as possible seemed the sensible thing to do.

I looked around my room gazing at the empty desks with chairs turned upside down on top of them.
My students had a rough day today. I had a rough day today. We just couldn't get our groove. We'd have it, and then suddenly as if a switch had been flipped, we'd lose it.
There were tears, there were hurt feelings, there were arguments. Don't get me wrong - we DID learn today - really, we did, but boy was it a challenge.

We enjoyed lunch together today, we cashed in our Blue Bucks today, we got new library books today, we wrote thank you notes today. We learned about compassion, we learned that sometimes it's best to just be quiet, we learned that we have a lot of work to do when it comes to becoming the best we can be. (but don't we all)

I sat there and stared. I stared at the list of positive, encouraging things my students said about one of their classmates today and smiled. We did learn something today.

And then, I saw it. The agenda hanging out of her desk. I got up and moved her chair and found her reading folder too. I could have just left it. I didn't. It would have been easy to, but I didn't. I gathered the things she needed to have taken home with her (that she hadn't) and dialed the phone number I had dialed just last week.

"Can I bring her homework?"

"Yes, I mean ... if you have time ... you would do that?"

"Of course I will ... I'll see you in a little while."

I loaded my basket up with papers to correct, my plan book to look over, and my camera. My nieces met me at my door & we walked to the car. Car seats had to be moved, the front seat was filled with backpacks and coats, and once again I found relief in just sitting. Oh how tired I was.

We pulled up to the house. I grabbed the notebook and agenda and walked up the steps. I was greeted with a smile. In my five minutes standing inside the home of one of my students, I never saw her. I saw the life size cowgirl she made during Round-Up week. I saw her chore chart. I saw her color-coded day of the week chart. I saw her home. And even though I didn't see her in person, I still felt like I saw her.

I think that teachers in the days of Laura Ingalls Wilder spent time with families. They visited homes. They made the extra effort when it would have been easier to turn the other way. They were real.

I wanted to be that teacher today. The one who visited the home of my student. The one who could have said, "She should have remembered" and instead said, "I want to help."

There are days when my it seems that I've taught nothing. There are days when nothing seems to be learned. Today was one of those days. It really was, but then again ... it wasn't. I taught, I learned, and those 23 (24 tomorrow) students of mine learned something too.

The visit I made - it wasn't for me. It was for them. It was to show that together things will be taught ... and we all will learn.

This is on my door.
I think I need it in more places than one.