A Reminder

Friday morning started off like every morning.  There was nothing special about it except that it was Friday.  I got to work and was told that a teacher would be out, and at my school, we don’t have substitute teachers.  So we split the students amongst our own classrooms and pray for the best.  My mood deflated slightly because these days can be challenging to say the least.

The day started off really smooth.  I was shocked.  Third period had the potential to be daunting as I had some of the most challenging students in my class.

This period ended up being one of those moments.  One of those out of body experiences where you see everything and just smile.

I was working on some paperwork, Pandora was playing, and then it hit me.  It was quiet.  Quiet is never a good thing when you didn’t ask for it.  I looked up from my computer.

All fourteen students were working.  Silently.  All were engaged in their history textbooks.  I had a couple working on projects for World History.  Two were reading their books, and who can be upset at a student for reading?  My classroom was on task and clean.  They had kept everything organized.

I almost cried.

We had a rough week last week.  Problems were plentiful and it was draining.

But as I sat and looked around my class, I was reminded on why I chose teaching in the first place.  Why this is and always has been my passion, my love.

One student looked up and smiled at me, then went back to her work.  It made my heart soar.

Nothing could have knocked me off that cloud because in that moment, I was having a rare moment for a teacher.  We don’t get to have those moments where students want to learn.  Students were occasionally asking me to come help them with a question and they were eager for the answer.

When tomorrow comes and more than likely, I won’t have those moments again, I know I can cling to that one hour.  That one hour proves how influential teaching is and how much I love this job.

Teaching is messy, hard, tiring, draining, and completely wonderful.