Every child, when she is very young, goes through a series of phases where she imagines her future self in different ways. For me, my future held many things before I was eight. I was going to be an astronaut, the President, and a beauty shopper, possibly all three simultaneously.
Then I went to third grade. My sweet teacher's name was Jill Daniel. She created so many wonderful opportunities for us to learn about how the world works. Our classroom economy and political system were fascinating and memorable! The class ran like a well-oiled machine and we all felt safe and loved. From that year on, my future was clearly laid out before me. I was going to be a
teacher.
Throughout the rest of my education, I was frequently discouraged. My teachers, the men and women I so admired, spoke of the difficulties teachers face. They cited my intelligence, saying I could go to med school or law school. Their negativity baffled and infuriated me, but I was not deterred. I was going to be a
teacher.
As I neared the end of my high school years, I had to make difficult decisions about where I was going to college. I applied to three universities and one major scholarship. I endured interviews, essays, and lots of waiting, but none of that mattered. In the end, I was an NC Teaching Fellow, I was going to
UNC to join the class of 2006, and I was going to be a
teacher.
College was wonderful.
Finally, I was surrounded by people who shared my dreams. Even though the frightening bureaucracy was maddening and there were many frustrations, it didn't matter. Even though my eyes were opened to myriad new possibilities - astronomy, library science, and Early Childhood education, to name a few, I was not distracted. I roamed the halls of Peabody with a mixture of determination, trepidation, and confidence that increased by the day. I was becoming a
teacher.
In May of 2006, on my fiance's birthday, I dressed in my sky blue cap and gown and joined a river of students who matched the cloudless sky. I listened as Wendy Kopp spoke about - something. I stood, arms linked, with my closest friends, turned my face toward the section where I knew my parents, my fiance, and my best friend waited, and sobbed my way through the Clefhangers' rendition of
"Carolina in My Mind". I spent the summer searching for a job and in July the call came: I was offered a position teaching fourth grade in a tiny town in Eastern NC. I had done it. I was a
teacher.
My career has been marked with ups and downs, as anyone's may be. I have strengths and weaknesses, as everyone does. I care deeply about my students. and I highly value the privilege of being their
teacher.
I am honored to have met Alicia, who could neither read nor write in the fourth grade, but told beautiful stories and cried when her parents picked her up from school without warning to move to Texas.
I am so glad I got to encourage Connor, the quirky little fourth grader with the blinding migraines and the crazy parents, to read harder novels, like
Robinson Crusoe.
I still have the fishbowl that Ashton brought me one afternoon, just because he thought I'd like it. It is shaped like a fish. You may have seen it sitting on the hearth at my house.
I loved dressing up with my students for eighth grade prom. They all looked so grown up, and we danced together.
I vividly remember Kasey's tears as she thanked me for giving her a chance to make changes in her life. She is about to graduate from high school and she is a member of the JROTC in her high school.
I still get hugs from Tony - and his mom - every time I see them at school or in the community.
My throat still closes up with I remember Daniel's words - "Mrs. R, you're like a mom to me." He doesn't have a mom at home.
My heart aches for Anthony, whose life is so bleak that he radiated rage every day in my class. His hugs were the sweetest I've ever been given by a student.
I will never forget William, who was confused about who he was, what he was feeling, and whether or not he was loved or even liked. Even though he was frequently disruptive and disrespectful, his humor and good will touched my heart.
I love to hear, "Guess what, Mrs. R?" from Victoria before she tells me the latest exploits of the twins or the baby at home, or what her aunt has sent her from Mexico this time.
I treasure my time with Hannah and Fiona as they return to my classroom after school and on Saturdays to practice for Science Olympiad. I love our gossip sessions and the trust they show in me.
I love that Harrison stops to ask me questions like, "Mrs. R, what would you do if you had to write a paper about an archnemesis?"
I struggle not to burst out laughing when a handful of kids in my homeroom start to sing, quietly and in unison. "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame..."
I cherish the teasing from the ABC fans during March Madness.
I love to high five kids who get the right answer or take a risk. I love their smiles. I may be called upon to be a nurse, a counselor, a confessor, a mother, a sister, a friend, a judge, a police officer, a tutor, maybe even a lifesaver.
I am a
teacher.
