I am a part of all that I have met
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
The bell rang in the hallway the kids filed into the classroom placing their book bags on hooks and sitting at their shared tables. Then he walked in last.
We both couldn't believe our eyes. He stopped took one look at me and covered his face. I almost cried. Jalante, I've known him since he was two and now my first day in a kindergarten class and he is one of my students.
I'm overwhelmed. I am so grateful to have to opportunity to teach and learn in a kindergarten class in a Columbus City School. I love this city. What were the odds I would end up in the kindergarten class of one of my favorite kids?! This first week has been so perfect. I love hearing my name called Mr. Schuch, and I love slowly watching the relationship already start to form. Asking if I will sit by them during their work. Randomly hugging me then sitting back down at circle time. The small classroom with the supply shelves stacked to the ceiling the old one story brick school building, the lack of air conditioning and that elementary school building smell.
It reminds me so much of Elm Street Elementary where I went to school before it was torn down.
I wish I could sit here and put in to words how I felt this past week being in the classroom. I want to remember this first experience. I want to remember when I feel burned out, when I get caught up in the teacher gossip and complaining, when I get frustrated at administration. I want to remember this beginning. This feeling of joy and this eagerness to get my own class next fall.
But I can't put my finger on it. I can't find the words. None of the ones I know touch on this week. If I tried I feel like it would only be a half truth, what's inside of me would slip through the pin.
My whole life I didn't think I could find a job that I'd love. I thought work was simply something you do to make money for the things you really want out of life. But damn being in these elementary classrooms watching their faces when they finally get how to spell blue. I don't know why but it's the best. When they remember to put their name in pencil at the top of their page and hold up their accomplishment with the biggest grin on their face. It makes my heart swell and I want to cry.
Why do I always want to cry so much? It's just teaching millions of people do it every day and countless have done it through history. But I like it. I love the patience it teaches me. I love the hope it cultivates inside me. I love the pressure and the performance it asks of me. I want to be the best damn kindergarten teacher this country has ever had. I want my small roasting classroom in an old building with plants in the windows and papers all over the tables and desks. And I want to sing songs, write names, and explore this incredible world with a class each fall until spring.
Thank you God.
I am a part of all that I have met
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Passenger - Things that stop you dreaming
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
The bell rang in the hallway the kids filed into the classroom placing their book bags on hooks and sitting at their shared tables. Then he walked in last.
We both couldn't believe our eyes. He stopped took one look at me and covered his face. I almost cried. Jalante, I've known him since he was two and now my first day in a kindergarten class and he is one of my students.
I'm overwhelmed. I am so grateful to have to opportunity to teach and learn in a kindergarten class in a Columbus City School. I love this city. What were the odds I would end up in the kindergarten class of one of my favorite kids?! This first week has been so perfect. I love hearing my name called Mr. Schuch, and I love slowly watching the relationship already start to form. Asking if I will sit by them during their work. Randomly hugging me then sitting back down at circle time. The small classroom with the supply shelves stacked to the ceiling the old one story brick school building, the lack of air conditioning and that elementary school building smell.
It reminds me so much of Elm Street Elementary where I went to school before it was torn down.
I wish I could sit here and put in to words how I felt this past week being in the classroom. I want to remember this first experience. I want to remember when I feel burned out, when I get caught up in the teacher gossip and complaining, when I get frustrated at administration. I want to remember this beginning. This feeling of joy and this eagerness to get my own class next fall.
But I can't put my finger on it. I can't find the words. None of the ones I know touch on this week. If I tried I feel like it would only be a half truth, what's inside of me would slip through the pin.
My whole life I didn't think I could find a job that I'd love. I thought work was simply something you do to make money for the things you really want out of life. But damn being in these elementary classrooms watching their faces when they finally get how to spell blue. I don't know why but it's the best. When they remember to put their name in pencil at the top of their page and hold up their accomplishment with the biggest grin on their face. It makes my heart swell and I want to cry.
Why do I always want to cry so much? It's just teaching millions of people do it every day and countless have done it through history. But I like it. I love the patience it teaches me. I love the hope it cultivates inside me. I love the pressure and the performance it asks of me. I want to be the best damn kindergarten teacher this country has ever had. I want my small roasting classroom in an old building with plants in the windows and papers all over the tables and desks. And I want to sing songs, write names, and explore this incredible world with a class each fall until spring.
Thank you God.
I am a part of all that I have met
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Passenger - Things that stop you dreaming