Starting Again

To my teacher friends on the start of another school year,

The dew on the grass is thick and heavy on this brilliant morning. I am out inspecting the tree branches that have littered the yard since the last heavy rain. The earth has done her best again. The grass is rich and green. The flowers are bright and beaming. The apples and tomatoes are drooping on the vine and the birds send their songs echoing through the trees. It is a moment of grace. All the clichés about not paying attention are swept away by thoughts of other Augusts when my brother and I would eat green apples and ripe tomatoes right off the vine. Thump growing watermelons in anticipation of our secret feasts. Augusts when our own children would delight in the treasures of the fading summer. I am grateful for this lovely morning and I hope you have had a few “Aha” moments this summer, too.  Let me thank you an advance for your hard work and offer a few words of encouragement.

You need to know right away we Americans believe it is important for our children to be educated; however, we have NEVER agreed about HOW to educate them. Some of those who help create our country recognized that learning new stuff and thinking about how that stuff fits into our lives is generally a good thing. Since then there has been a continual argument about WHO is to learn WHAT WHEN and HOW they are to learn it. (I am not an educational historian, so I will leave it to others to explain the history in detail. See The American School 1642-2000 by Joel Spring). My point is you will never satisfy everyone as you work in your classroom. You can only do your best to satisfy your own expectations and those of your students. And even that can be very tricky. We live in an age where lots of people – even those with scant experience in the classroom – feel compelled to tell teachers how to teach. Some even suggest we don’t really need live teachers. A good script and a recording and presto! All is well. You know better. You have been in the presence of children when their world has changed because of something you help them learn. Your challenge is to recreate those moments as often as you can. You already know what your students need to learn in your discipline. You know how to help them create high expectations. You KNOW how to run a classroom.

But here is where I would ask you to remember that stunning August morning.

As you help your students learn new skills and information, remember your students are watching you. Show them how you keep your balance in a world that can be confusing and scary. Show them how to be thoughtful, patient, kind and caring. I know it sounds trite, but do it anyway. Let them see you laugh with delight and be surprised by the world. Show them how you manage when your heart is broken and, above all, show them how our lives are lifted by our hopes and dreams. If you do, your classroom can become a place where the standards of the mind and the standards of the heart come together. We want our children to know a lot of stuff, but we also want them to live enlightened lives. As this new year begins, I wish you small classes, thoughtful students, wise administrators, and helpful parents. And keep your chin up. It helps you see the unlimited sky. Your kids are watching.

A poem:

Ode to Teachers

I remember

the first day;

how I looked down,

hoping you wouldn't see

me,

and when I glanced up,

I saw your smile

shining like a soft light

from deep inside you.

"I'm listening." you encouraged us.

"Come on!

Join our conversation,

let us hear your neon certainties,

thorny doubts, tangled angers, "

but for weeks I hid inside.

I read and reread your notes

praising 

my writing,

and you whispered,

"We need you

and your stories,

and questions

that like a fresh path

will takes us to new vistas."

Slowly, your faith grew

into my courage

and for you--

instead of handing you

a note or apple or flowers,

I raised my hand.

I carry your smile

and faith inside like I carry

my dog's face,

my sister's laugh,

creamy melodies,

the softness of sunrise,

steading blessings of stars,

autumn smell of gingerbread,

the security of a sweater on a chilly day.

                               - Pat Mora