I didn’t cry on the first day of school. Not really my style, I guess. My children were ready and so was I. But the last? There were tears. A lot of tears. And that is largely thanks to their teachers.
To be fair, we’re at the beginning of our educational journey, but the experiences we’ve had this year with our angels on earth — also known as the teachers — has set the bar incredibly high.
Because here’s the deal: ABC’s and 123’s are secondary to me. What I’m looking for — what I hope my children are the recipients of — is kindness. That’s it. Every day as I send them off into this beautiful but often brutal world, I pray they are the getters and givers of kindness. And so far, our teachers have facilitated that tenfold.
So as our beloved leaders leave us for the summer — as we give them gift cards, and words of appreciation, and a must deserved rest — I want to take a minute to document the cape-less heroes we’ve had the pleasure of getting to know.
Let’s start with my daughter.
On the first day of pre-K, she ran in enthusiastically. It’s all fresh and new and fun until the exhaustion sets in. By day three, she was in shambles and I had to carry her in kicking and screaming.
I arrived at the classroom out of breath and minutes away from a breakdown myself, and that’s when her teacher dismissed the other students, got on the floor, and hugged my child into her chest. She looked me in the eye and said, ‘go,’ and so I did. Because in that moment I saw my daughter’s body release into the safety of someone who cared for her. A bridge of trust had been built, and since then, neither of us have looked back.
But the tears returned this week as we bid farewell because I’m not sure how you say goodbye to a superhero. Someone who has taken the time to love your child — to paste and paint self-worth into their tiny souls. Next year we make the leap into Kindergarten, which brings anxieties of its own. Preschool was a safe bubble for myself and my child, who has differing needs. She’s four and reads on a fourth-grade level but has never had a friend. There’s a large gap between her academic giftedness and her social skills, and my fear that she’ll be left to the ‘big school’ bullies often consumes me.
So, a few weeks ago, I decided to meet with my daughter’s future principal. I wanted to explain all about this little, sensitive, oh so smart human I’m raising. I was nervous to do this, to preemptively give her information that could lead to judgment, but to no surprise my child was embraced from the minute I opened my mouth.
I sat in awe listening to the principal explain the plans that are already in place to increase the social/emotional learning for every student. My jaw dropped when she mentioned extra recesses, and brain breaks, and quiet corners in the classroom where children can remove themselves if they are overstimulated or stressed. I came with concerns, but I left with comfort. Because inside the four walls of that school were people who cared. I could feel it. These children were names to them, not numbers.
