This Is What It Looks Like

 

“Be the change you want to see in the world,” Gandhi famously said, and this could be an oath for all teachers. But not every teacher has a clear vision of what that might look and feel like. So here’s a little help from a remarkable 5^th grade teacher, as she posted in Facebook to mark the end of the school year:

 

As another school year comes to a close, I’m dizzy with emotion, as usual. Today, was our elementary graduation ceremony. I had stayed up late the night before putting all 750 pictures from my phone into a slideshow, which cued up to cheesy music that played on repeat for 15 minutes. 

 

I did the math and between cross country, monthly walk to schools, and the end of the year camping trip, these fifth graders and I have walked 100 miles together. In the rain (we found lots of snails on that walk), in the heat (they found creative ways to discuss the weather without breaking the “one whine a day” rule), up 212 steps to the top of windy hills (with a mandatory meditation at the top), and running down single-track paths. 

We had our annual camping trip to finish the year and it was all the magic I hoped it to be- kids inventing games, skipping rocks, telling scary stories, washing their hands at the spigot, and on our last night, going on a night hike.

The kids walked alone, one at a time as the brightness dimmed and we formed a circle on top of a small hill - the vastness of the water below. They were all a little silly and I pulled us in close, inviting words of appreciation for the class. 

Ella says that this is a class where everyone belongs. And that’s special. Ben says that everyone is there for you. You never have to be alone. I said this is the only class I’ve had and likely will ever have that can whip up an improvised skit about the travels of an egg, complete with fallopian tube butlers and the pituitary gland actor standing on a chair conducting the whole thing. And everyone has a part. And everyone is laughing.

 

I told them to see how far they could walk back without turning on their flashlight. I called it a night hike challenge. They immediately, Pavlovian-like respond, “dun, dun dun” They are crazed, the emotion spilling out into silliness.

Yuzu was spinning in circles on the trail, giggling uncontrollably. She said, in between breaths, “I’m laughing and I’m crying all at the same time.” Emile said in his signature wry voice- “Yeah, I think that’s the point.” 

 

Indeed, that’s the point. If you give children what they need and deserve, they get it. And hopefully grow to be adults who never forget it. And pass it on.

 

The kind of change in the world this extraordinary 5^th grade teacher created does not come for free. It requires constant dreaming of what might be, married to the hard, hard work of setting it in motion. Detail after detail planning classes, the jazz discipline of responding to whatever the kids throw your way, long hours reading papers and asking the questions that get the kids to come up with the answers for more clarity and better answers. It demands a faith and a patience beyond the ordinary, a reaching far beyond any job description, a determination to fill the serious work with fun and good humor. It asks for a capacity to see the beauty in each and every child amidst all their quirks and failings and drive-you-crazy habits, and in so doing, to genuinely love them and let them know they are seen and valued and loved. All of which this 5^th grade teacher accomplished. I could not by more impressed or inspired by her and her work.

 

And she is my daughter.