My first year of teaching, I was with an interesting group of women.
They were all sweet, in their own way, offering encouragement, helpful advice, and cautionary tips.
But as thankful as I was for them, well some of them, I also remember thinking that I wanted to do more and be more than them. Especially
one in particular.
(Having said that, I wanted to be better than all other teachers before me, nothing against the ladies I worked with. I just wanted to be the best, no matter what.)
She seemed to hate her job. Hate the kids. Hate the school district. And on occasion, I think even hate me.
She told me one day early on in my first few months of teaching, "I remember what it was like to be young. To have all the energy and to think you're actually going to help all of your students. I suppose that's why you teach with so much fluff. You'll see in time, and all that excitement will go away. That these kids will be just like their parents. And then, you'll be just like me."
I thought to myself, "I'll never be like you." And I also thought, "Fluff? Oh hell no!"
I put my whole heart into my classroom, every year. Every. Year. I gave EVERYTHING I had to make sure my kids felt safe, loved, and encouraged, while excelling through learning.
Did I teach fluff?
I suppose I did, if fluff means standing on tables, stomping out syllables to help them get the skill. If fluff means making my kids clap their hands and shout, "Whooo," every time they heard an idiom. If fluff means making kids lie across the floor to become our means of measuring the perimeter for our classroom to discuss standard and non-standard units of measurement. If fluff means making my kids sing songs or poems to learn math skills or new vocabulary. If fluff means blowing a whistle at a kid during writing time when they chose to use a boring word like, sad instead of a more meaningful word like, melancholy. Or fake falling asleep with obnoxious snoring, when their writing has little detail, then offering ways to improve it to keep me awake. If fluff means giving my kids a crazy face, to make them smile, when they say they can't come up with a good hypothesis for our science experiment.
Yep. I did. I taught of lot of fluff.
I was in a classroom again today, actually teaching fluff. Fluffy slime to be exact. I taught the kids about measurement, vocabulary words like dissolve and knead, and made them smile as we discussed different reactions that occur from mixing these materials, as I used silly voices and sound effects.
This time with these kids, including my own actual kid, made me think of how if I were still in the classroom, I would still give my EVERY thing to help my kids learn. How I would still have energy and believe that I could make my students' lives better in some way. How I would still want my kids to feel safe, loved, and encouraged, while excelling through learning. How even though I'm not so young anymore, I would still love my job, and all the "Fluff," that went along with it.
My assistant at the start.
Then Afton took over for this group of crazies.
She left me after this to, "Handle it. Mom, I know you can do it."
She wanted to go to the other activities her best friends and her had planned for the morning.
Triplets... kind of.
Jean jackets, black leggings, black boots, and their headbands.
The things I do for this girl!
Man, I love her.
