Ms. Nap

My time with my elementary kids is coming to a close. We have seven school days left but it's that point in the year where every day feels like the last. There's assemblies and awards and movies and cleaning out desks and looking for lost library books. It's also the time of the year, as any teacher will tell you, when you feel most connected with your students. You've put in the time. You've earned their trust. They've let down their guard and learned to listen. Today was a perfect example of that.

My third graders were taking their final language arts test. Reading comprehension and a little writing with some vocabulary sprinkled in. I took my group of four to the middle room where we work on a daily basis. I didn't have to remind them to be quiet. I didn't have to tell them to separate themselves from the rest of the group. They knew exactly what to do and how to do it. And they were focused. They were on task. They were good. They were so good. (No, they didn't get all the answers but today, that wasn't the point. Today the point was they've finally learned how to take a test and write a complete sentence. Okay, well, almost complete.)

Afterwards they had some downtime as they finished the test at different times. The above picture is what came from one little girl's downtime. One little girl who has such a hard time focusing I want to cry for her. One little girl who has more than once had to leave my room because she can't handle being there with four other students. One little girl who can't spell to save her soul. But on her own time, she drew this for me and delivered it to me with such pride and love in her eyes. For precisely this reason, I do this job.

It was a good day. A very good day. Not all are but days like today remind me of what it's all about. And it's not just pictures, they tend to say it with words too. Later on today they were writing letters to their fifth grade selves and telling them about their third grade experiences. One little boy wrote, "I love doing math with my very own teacher". Mind you, I only worked with him one-on-one yesterday for the first time. But it stuck with him. And I hope long division does too.

Several other students wrote about Ms. Nap in their letters and it made me smile so much to read over their shoulders and see their little misspelled words of love. And to hear their, "You have to go now?"s when I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. And as they waved and yelled goodbye (more for the excuse to yell then anything I am sure) part of me didn't want to leave. And isn't that the mark of a really good job? A really good anything? When you don't want it to end?