Baby Steps

It happens every September. Its one of the things I like about my chosen career. A fresh start. Every year on the first Tuesday after Labor Day I get a new start. Somewhere between 20 and 30 bright eyed 8 year olds show up in my classroom ready for me to expose them to all that is third grade.

Each year is different, but often they are much the same as well. In teaching there are common threads that run through each year regardless of the batch of kids you have. Life experience, birth order, prior knowledge, these are things you can't control. These are the things the kids bring with them. It may not show up early, but it is there.

Sometimes you get a batch like I had last year that sink deep into your heart, and that you don't want to see go. Those kids came in with the right stuff. I could have sat in my chair all year and they still would have been fantastic. I can't take credit for the end result with that group.

Then some times you are lucky enough to get a learning year. I have dubbed this year's theme "the island of misfit toys." I'm supposed to get them to pass the state standards and I can't get them to sit in a chair. This year is going to be a challenge. It's going to take work, it's going to take a boat load of patience. There will be laughs and there will be tears, and I'm pretty sure that will be me.

But this year, this is one that I will own. Every single success will be hard fought and won and I will own them all. They will be well earned. There were fleeting seconds this week where I saw a glimmer of what could be. Not often, and not all at once, but it's down there. Under the blurting and the backwards numbers and the inability to read. It's hidden behind the selfishness that does not allow them to realize others are in the room too. Behind the tattles, just next to the pencil tossing, there is a small glimmer of hope. Of greatness. Of what could be.

It's going to be a long haul, but like any journey it begins with the first step. Baby steps, but first steps none the less.