A love letter to teachers

Hello!

Teachers have been so heavy on my mind for a few months now. I can’t shake it.

As part of my job, I have the privilege of training teachers in ABA and autism, observing children in the classroom in order to provide teachers with strategies for improving behaviors, and collaborating with school staff regarding therapies. I’ve loved it. It’s been years since I’ve been out of the public schools, years of my career that I cherish most. I could tell stories for days – remembering specific instances, joys, successes, failures, and lows. What I love most is that I still remember each face. The faces that taught me the most (maybe ones I feel I failed or was too inexperienced for) haunt me. They appear in my hardest times to remind me to do better, to keep thinking, to be more creative or “out of the box.”

I’m reminded again what a difficult job being a teacher is. I’m focusing on teachers as they have the largest ratio during instruction (I know it can be difficult for all staff as I was an overwhelmed-overworked-but-in-love-with-my-job SLP).

Over the past few months, I have been in awe of some of the teachers I have observed going about their day. I believe that when something is on your mind for a while, it’s meant to be shared.

Teachers, times have certainly changed and I believe that demands placed on you have exponentially increased without us (on the outside) realizing it. Not only do you have the job you signed up for but you now have to handle so much more – the repercussions of technology that has exceeded a child’s maturity level, helicopter parents, more children with special education in your regular education classroom (a great thing but it requires more training), changes in student culture (LGBT teens, transgender, transracial families, immigrants, etc.), fear (gun violence, consequences of the war on terror shown nightly on the TV), and brokenness in homes. You have become champions for causes, cheerleaders, counselors, special education teachers, advocates, social workers, and moms-away-from-home (with some of you actually adopting your students).

I’m in awe of your ability to “stay calm and talk it through.” Gone are the days of “I told you already” or “because I said so” and here are the days of teaching the emotional and environmental consequences of poor decisions so that we address social emotional health and answer those annoying “why” questions that teach way beyond your given curriculum. I’ve seen you have circle time for the wee ones and the older ones and you’ve asked each one “How are you feeling today?” and everyone in the circle waited for the answer. Did you know that for many, you are the only one who will ask them that question? I’ve watched you become open and honest with your students stating that their actions also made you feel sad and hurt.

I’ve watched so many of you teach your students to be good citizens of the world – recycling, acceptance of others, and volunteering or “giving back.” You sow a seed that won’t be reaped perhaps for years. But, you know it’s there. Thank you for your investment in their and our future.

I’ve seen you cry in team meetings because you feel that you aren’t doing enough although I’ve seen you do way more than anyone can comprehend. I’ve seen you try everything you know to do, ask for help and more training, and continue to struggle over “that one.” I’ve seen your eyes light up over baby steps toward bigger academic milestones – steps that would be easily go unnoticed.  

Some of you teach classes to a group of wide-eyed students hungry to learn the academics and English. I’ve watched you spend extra time and money to serve those students from immigrant families. You’ve filled in the gaps financially and with time. You’ve also taught the parents and advocated for them as well.  

I’ve watched you learn and embrace new cultures and religions. I saw you lovingly smooth a young girl’s bangs back under her hijab and tell her that she is beautiful. I know that you probably had to learn a lot about Muslim tradition in order to better support her in the classroom. This simple loving act spoke volumes.

I’ve seen you buy Christmas gifts for a family that would otherwise have no gifts under the tree. I’ve seen you sneak snacks into backpacks knowing that there are no snacks or “extra food” at home. I’ve seen you send home clothes for younger siblings that you’ve collected. I’ve seen you do this in a way that is honoring to the family and preserves dignity. You’ve been so slight and careful.

For some of you, I know that you can't have Jesus in the classroom visibly but we know He is there because you call on Him several times throughout the day - especially at the end of the day when students are going home to parents who cannot provide for them physically or financially or emotionally. You pray for them at night and on weekends. Your knees are worn from laying these burdens at the foot of the cross. We know you also pray to be more for them. 

I know that those outside the school life rarely understand your job. They see a job description that can sometimes seem “easier” than some jobs. They don’t see the longer list of things you do in the day that are not listed in the job description. Oh, and why are you complaining because you get the summer off and so many holidays? That’s stupid, we know. We are aware that you put in enough unpaid hours to fill those holidays and summers. You can sleep in the summer to make up for those sleepness nights wondering how  you’ll get needed supplies and books for your low-income students and how they will eat when the cafeteria is closed for the holiday and summer. I love that all of you that I know personally would have still pursued this profession had you been given the truth, the true description of what this job would call you to do and be. You would still say yes. We know you have the ability to most impact our future.

You create world changers.

Thank you for all that you do – seen & unseen,

Danielle

A few of my most favorite teachers:

Seasons

Hello from a beautiful Fall day in St. Louis!

I have been in “puppy love” with Fall here. It has always been my favorite season but I’ve never experienced it so fully as I have here in our first year in St. Louis. The trees are beautiful. So many times I have pulled over to take a picture. I often just swipe through my photos looking at the gallery of trees I’ve captured. The crisp cool breezes are romantic and invigorating. We are surrounded by beauty- we need not look too hard to find it. We are captivated by the colors we see at only this time of year. How many shades of golden? Orange? I had never seen these shades.

One reason I was excited to move here was to experience true seasons.  Recognizing that Winter would be difficult I knew the other seasons would be so much more appreciated and anticipated. In California, it’s hard to complain about year-round sunshine, but for me, it was not healthy. I needed the sights, sounds, feelings, and social experiences of all four seasons. Seasons are a physical tangible reminder of the cycles and seasons of life. Walking outdoors or through the park can be as good a sermon as Sunday morning.

Just look at these pictures: 

I love Fall most but I feel like when we are in a “Fall” in our lives, we know to cherish it. We know it can change any time. We recognize that we are living in the “good days,” and odds are that they can only last so long before we are faced with a challenge. Slowly we see the signs that the year (of our lives) is changing. Fall teases me with the hardest of seasons for me – Winter. The beloved leaves are falling from the trees in greater numbers. You can now see the bare branches instead of the full kaleidoscope of red, orange, brown and golden leaves. The air is more biting in the mornings and evenings. Ice begins to form early in the mornings providing us with warnings. There's a sense of preparedness. One day, we wake up and ask, “Where did it go?” although we know the answer already. we hope that we had acknowledged the subtleties and seized the opportunities before the next season comes.  

Winter often too closely follows Fall. It will come, there's no doubt. Winter is when we bunker up. We store up and we bustle less. We cling to each other to keep warm. We spend more time at home. We look for comfort. Flavors become warm and spicy. There’s a feeling of heaviness. The world outside can be bitter and harsh. There can be scarcity. There’s death. Maybe we barely get by. We question if we will survive this season. We have to reorient to what is important. We have to look more closely and longer to find beauty. We have to look for a “different” kind of beauty in this season. We don’t like it but it’s necessary, necessary for life and regrowth.

I need not go into detail as it is not my story, but Winter hit our family. I had been basking in my Fall (literally and spiritually). But, I knew. I felt Winter whispering. I felt tinges of cold blow through my soul. And then it came. So, just like the season, the family has bunkered up. We’ve stored up plans, love, and swords of scripture. We cling to togetherness, the essentials, and the bottom line. It’s harsh and bitter, but we know that as the seasons have beautifully taught us, Spring will come. On the other side of Winter is newness, vibrancy, life, growth. We will be renewed and refreshed, and we will never be the same as we were. As hard as it can be and will be, we take hope in Spring because we know that it is around the corner.

John Steinbeck said, "What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”

Each season has so much to teach us, if we will watch.

So, loves, enjoy the season that you are in if you are in a sweet one. If you find yourself in Winter, hold on. Though it may not feel soon enough, Spring will come.

Love,

Danielle

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

He hath made everything beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8, 11 (King James Version)