.Today is Teacher Appreciation day, and I'd like to take a moment to write a non-running post. Maybe it's because I ran one of my worst times ever this weekend, or maybe because I am several races behind with my posts. It's probably because I had a few special students take the time to reach out over Social Media and cheer their favorite teachers, many of whom are my colleagues. Hey, it's my blog so I can write what I want. Some of these students are the ones that always sit quietly in class, raise their hands to answer questions, and turn in their homework everyday. They are kind and respectful to their instructors, materials and their peers. They work hard academically and have the aptitude for success in many different tasks. Those "ideal" students are amazing and they would learn and succeed anywhere, with or without an amazing teacher. We brag about their successes and love watching them soar. We know that we can take no credit for these eagles and do our best to never clip their wings but give them room to fly. |
They come washed up on the school beaches with stories that would break your heart. Homes that are broken, where they may be battered and beaten or have nothing to eat and limited clothes in their closet. They have experienced the loss of a loved one. They have been told at some point that they are weak, stupid, or are so busy searching for answers to life that they overlook themselves and the need for an education. They call out randomly in class, take frequent naps and/or bathroom breaks because they are bored, uncomfortable, or just plain tired. We see them shed tears or put on tough faces in an attempt to disquise their pain. They are often angry at life and the cards they have been dealt. We know that growing up is difficult. That each generation is different than the ones before, yet the same. The struggles are different. Would we have succeeded in this world with constant distractions from technology, economic recession, and social media? As a teacher we quietly pick them up and hurl them out to sea, only to find them the next day washed up on the shore again. Driven back out of the sea by the tempest tide, their own stubborn nature, or fear of success. We pick them up again, and hurl them back. Giving them a pep talk, "You can do this!" Some of them stay, one toss, one nod of approval, or acknowledgment of their value was all they needed, but for others their response is so erratic that we storm up the beach next to another starfish hurler screaming, "Why won't they just stay? I just can't get through to this one. I'm not a strong enough hurler." Our colleagues, lend a sympathetic ear, offer another strategy to our XYZ story and then we watch as the starfish get tossed around in the tide. Will they stay this time? Some just might find a substrate that they can stick to and we hold our breath and each others hands hoping beyond hope that they will find what it takes to make them stick....but still they return to the shore. After the seventh return from the sea, the starfish are now calling back to the hurlers, "Why do you keep throwing me out to sea? I'm just going to wash back up again! Just leave me on the beach, I don't matter" We reply, "You can do this. You have strength and this tide or storm will pass" The hurlers stand with their collective wisdom and experience, and toss the starfish back to the sea, again, and again, and again. You see, the starfish matter to them. Our world depends on the success of these starfish and as teachers, we won't give up on them. They matter. Our dream is that our starfish will one day stay in the sea. That we will hear in some distant future the success of one of our starfish. That just maybe our toss mattered, that they have found peace, happiness, and their place in this crazy sea.