A time for rest

We. Did. It. 

I think the last two days alone earned me two weeks off. There was so much grading to do in calculus that I thought my eyes were going to give out on me. Seriously. My eyes hurt. I am too young for that. 

Every time I would finish a stack of folders or  papers, a new stack would appear. And this was not me procrastinating on grading. This was all stuff that was turned in the last two days (given, I asked for it the last two days so I really only have myself to blame). 

Anyway, after two days of grading folders, study guides, and final exams, I am exhausted. Which makes being done even more sweet, I feel. Like–we really earned this one, didn’t we?

Some highlights of the last two days for me include 102 calculus students earning a C or better this semester, and every kid in Intermediate getting an A or B on his/her multiple choice final. Those are some good things. 

But the really good things are the ones you can’t quantify. The battles we fight every day that often go unseen to most…

The kid that said he didn’t care about school in the beginning but now doesn’t want anything lower than an A. 

The girl that didn’t speak any English to you but now asks you how you’re doing. 

The boy who said school and people have not treated him well in the past but who now tries his best to socialize–even though that’s not how he’s naturally wired. 

The kid who opened up to you about being raped. 

The kid who opened up to you about missing his dad. 

The kid who opened up to you about her pregnancy. 

The kid who opened up to you about losing her friend. 

About getting into an Ivy League School. 

About not getting into an Ivy League School. 

About love. About loss. About everything. About nothing. 

Those are the real victories, my Teacher Loves. Those and so much more that you and only you know because your classroom is a safe place for kids to share their thoughts, their worries, their triumphs, and their fears. 

Our real good things are often not seen. And you can’t assign a number to them. 

But they are good. 

And you continue to fight for these kids despite low wages, despite the stacks of papers to grade, despite the dwindling resources. 

So teachers–take time for you the next two weeks. You’ve fought and you’ve won. 

There will be new battles come January. 

But now is our Sabbath. Rest, rest, and rest. 

Merry Christmas ❤️