Fireflies.

Two parter! Show stopper!

Part 1. Things that aren't related to teaching. (This section will probably get a lot longer in about two weeks when UF is all said and done... if I pass these last few classes, that is.)

Part 2. Things that are related to teaching.

1. Unrelated to teaching.

Why, what lovely weather we are having!

Possibly some ramen noodles on the dinner-time horizon.

American Idol later.

Jamming to some Beyonce.

Love that boyfriend of mine.

Complete sentences?

2. Related to teaching.

Before I go any further, I should update the (minute amount of)readers of this blog. I am currently torn between a few speciality masters degrees (literacy, science, counseling) and depending on where life takes me, I most likely will get a masters in a degree in one of these so that I can barge a few more doors than just a teaching degree would allow me to. But: When I first made this decision, it was partly out of fear of graduating and being stuck and blah blah blah. But now, I really do want the chance to do something else in addition to teaching. It's just how I roll. Aight? So there, that is my little update. I want another degree and in something else tangentially related to education. Fascinating stuff, I know.

Despite that, I am now going to revel in the beauty and majesty that is JUST classroom teaching. You have been warned.

It has been such an interesting month. I have been back and forth between so many ideas for the future that I can't even remember what I should be doing right now... preparing to graduate!

I keep sitting in High Springs during my days and wondering if I made the right choice. I guess the problem is that teaching is not easy. Sounds like an unsurprising thing, doesn't it? It's just not. There are a lot of politics, a lot of troubled kids, and a lot of complaints.

Sometimes, however, it helps to remember that I can only be one place at one time doing one thing. Being present for the kids is probably the most important thing for a teacher. The times I have felt most at peace and the most effective in Mrs. R's class were the times when I was 100 percent engaged with the children and whatever task we were doing. Unsurprisingly, those were the times when they seemed happiest to be there too. No matter whether or not I decide to change careers or go get a masters or whatever crazy thing I look into next, the fact still remains: every day, month, and year you spend as a teacher is one entire day, month, and year in a child's life. Just because I am only an intern now, does not make this second grade class any less real. This is the only time that TD will be in second grade and desperate to discuss his cats. This is the only time that KO will be eight years old, irritating the living daylights out of everyone around her and acting like she is impervious to reprimand. This is the only time that they will get to go over the second grade curriculum and learn how to right a 'friendly letter' and all about force and motion for the very first time. Just because I view this as my 'practice run' and because Mrs. R views this as a 'below average' group and because Lindsey is also 'practicing for the future' (and doing such a good job that it is mind blowing!) does not mean we effect these children any less.

And thats how every year of teaching is. Just because you may teach for 20 years and feel like you are stuck living the same day over and over again, does not mean that the kids are. Mrs. R aptly said that teaching is like putting on a performance every single day. No matter what is happening on the inside, you can't do anything but smile on the outside... because they will notice when you don't. Maybe they won't notice the first time or even the tenth time... but when you lose your smile for teaching completely, it won't matter if it is your hundredth group of second graders... for them, it will be the first time and because of you they wont be smiling either.

This may sound dramatic. Because it is. Matters dealing with children usually are dramatic. This was part of the problem that I had with second graders in the beginning, and even a bit now at the end of my experience: Everything that happens is the biggest deal of all. A broken pencil can ruin you, even if just for a moment. A comment from your 'best friend' will make you sob for the entirety of lunch and recess. Tattling on peers feels like a civic duty, not an inconvenience that you bestow upon the teacher. It all matters so much to them, even if we think it is petty.

Thank God that second graders forget much of the little things that bother them. Within minutes, friends will reunite after harsh battles and pencils will be sharpened (and further abused) and you will forget what it was you were going to tattle about. When it comes to things between friends, young children are resilient and have an extremely fast emotional turn over rate. Fighting, and reuniting, is commonplace.

And yet for some reason, the things that teachers stick with children for far longer. I cannot remember a single social event from second grade (perhaps because I didn't have any friends) but I can remember Mrs. Noark writing me a hand-written letter on pink stationary in honor of the last day of school. She wrote all about our year together and what she loved about me. Maybe my personal obsession with school and my inability to make friends with kids my own age was what inspired me to keep it. Maybe I thought that teachers were the only ones who understood me, and therefore that I should hold on to anything they gave me, tangible or otherwise. And Maybe, no... probably, I was just way more sentimental than I should have been.

Or maybe being a teacher really can matter. To one person, at least.