They Were Loved

Old Dan and Little Ann die at the end of Where the Red Fern Grows.

Also, my teacher was Hindu so she had to pray the day before we dissected a cow's eyeball.

Those are the two things I most remember from 4th grade.

Now that I teach 4th grade, I should be appalled that with all the planning and training my 4th grade teacher went through- with all the stress and the demands of teaching while keeping a high-stakes test in mind, the ONLY thing I remember about my 4th grade year is the saddest part of our read-a-loud and a personal part of my teacher's life.

As I thought about this a little more I realized that those were the biggest cognitive memories I had from 4th grade, but there was something else about that year that was very special to me.

I can say without a doubt, with 100% certainty, that my teacher loved me. Not only did she love me, but she loved every single one of her students in that class. My fourth grade year was the last year I felt noticed in school by a teacher. It was the last year I felt like I was a part of a team in the school setting. It was the last year that I felt I had a teacher in my corner and by my side rooting me on.

When I was in high school I didn't want to be a teacher. I wanted to be a lawyer. I wanted to go to Truman to get a law degree and then I wanted to be the best, most bad-ass lawyer ever.

I quickly realized that practicing law wouldn't be my path, so when I graduated from high school I bounced around for a little bit before deciding I wanted to be in radio. I found a school and began learning all I could about radio and TV broadcasting. I thoroughly enjoyed my program- I even landed an intern spot on a fun local morning show. Things were looking up and I was ready to begin my career.

When I graduated from my program and began looking for jobs, nothing felt right. I was 20 years old and certain that I was supposed to have my life figured out. I started really analyzing and questioning whether or not radio was where I wanted to be. Ultimately I decided that it wasn't. So what was I supposed to do with my life?

It was around this time that Noah started attending preschool. I was able to go in and tour his school, and then sit with him for a while so he could get to know the teachers and the kids. I remember walking into his preschool classroom and thinking how nice it would be to be a teacher. I would have the same schedule as Noah. I would have a class full of little people to take care of. My students would depended on me to help them learn and grow. Even more than that, I would have the ability to make every single child in my classroom feel loved and safe- which was something that I was immersed in once.

In fourth grade.

After coming to the realization that teaching was where I was supposed to be, I didn't look back.

This year has been challenging. I know every year will have its challenges, and every year will be different. This is something that comes with the territory, and surely, as I gain more experience, my ability to handle those challenges will come more naturally.

This year, I have found myself searching for why I wanted to teach. Did I make the right choice? I knew last year was going to be hard. Everyone always warns you that your first year will be hard. I was prepared. But by year two? I was going to have it DOWN. (Insert insane, uncontrollable laughter from every experienced teacher everywhere).

This year the sheer numbers in fourth grade have made it difficult to keep up with the demands of the curriculum. I seem to be at constant battle with myself over whether or not I need to cover the material again because not enough kids are mastering it, or whether I need to move on because I have deadlines and April is coming. We all know what that means.

This year I have found myself needing to choose between helping my students with their social emotional well-being or helping them with fractions.

I have found myself crying during plan periods because I feel like I should be able to do both.

I have found myself crying at home because I struggle with the fact that in addition to helping 25 children make a years worth of growth, I also need to teach them to be kind and loving towards each other. I need to teach them time management and responsibility. I need to teach them empathy and problem solving skills. I need to help them make goals and achieve them. I need to get through Chapter 7 in math so we can start covering geometry. I need to help them with text structure and text features. I need to help them figure out why Where We Live Matters, and also what energy does. I need to teach them soft skills, hard skills, medium skills, and all the skills in between.

And then, I think about my 4th grade year. My teacher loved me. We read a really good book. My teacher loved me.

Earlier this week I was talking to a student about why they were choosing to exhibit certain behaviors. My relationship with this student has been challenging to say the least, so I thought helping them identify an adult they could buddy up with or check in with would be helpful to help them cope with some of the challenges they have been facing. When I asked if they could pick one adult that they trusted the most in the building- one that they felt comfortable and happy with- one that they would want to earn time with (a special lunch or a morning donut), who would it be- they looked at me like I was crazy and said "You."

Last week I was feeling overwhelmed and slightly crazy- and one of my friends and colleagues stopped me in the hallway and asked if I was okay. And then she listened to me as I went on and on about how I wasn't- and then she hugged me and told me I was doing a great job.

I have a 4th grade team that is hilarious, fun, and loves fiercely. We are there for one another no matter what curveball the state or district throws our way. We are willing to help each other, no questions asked, at the drop of a hat.

I have received encouraging notes in my mailbox, coffee pick me-ups, listening ears, and kind messages from many, many people in my building.

And every morning my kids walk into my classroom with smiles, high-fives, and hugs.

We might be the hot-mess-express, but we are doing it together. And if my personal experience has taught me anything- it is that loving the students in your classroom and showing them compassion and kindness- all while cheering them on as they conquer 4th grade- is more impactful and important than any chapter test, any state test, and any piece of curriculum.

So, here it is, January 20th. And we are going to keep pushing through. And I am going to hang on to every encouraging word from my colleagues and every smile from my students. And my one hope for them as the year continues is that they leave my 4th grade classroom knowing that without a doubt, with 100% certainty, they were loved.

Until next time,

XO Aly

*Disclaimer- Don't worry, I do plan to still teach the curriculum to the best of my ability :).