THe end of #19
The end of the school year is brutal.
This year I have another student art show to prepare for, and one to take down in a local college gallery.
The entire classroom has to be packed, moved, and unpacked, all while testing is being done in both rooms.
I will be back in my old art room again, though it still has a slight burnt smell from the fire. But I will buy an ionizer, and hope that it will all work out in the end.
Grades must be done.
But the joy of teaching comes from the love that the students give me, the thoughtful gift from a young teen who said I helped her in so many ways, the boy who wants to borrow a dollar, and then laughs and says "you're gonna miss us" with a wink. In my class of Asperger's boys, each one lines up to give me a big hug goodbye. I don't have the heart to tell them that I may not have them for art next year, but I promise them that I will see them in September. Then there are the students whose moms have died, and who decide that I am ok...and joke about me being their school mom.
And with all of that unconditional love, stress melts away, and I know in the end, I have done a good job and have done it with love.
Art by one of my students...a truly beautiful soul.
Patti O Teacher
This year I have another student art show to prepare for, and one to take down in a local college gallery.
The entire classroom has to be packed, moved, and unpacked, all while testing is being done in both rooms.
I will be back in my old art room again, though it still has a slight burnt smell from the fire. But I will buy an ionizer, and hope that it will all work out in the end.
Grades must be done.
But the joy of teaching comes from the love that the students give me, the thoughtful gift from a young teen who said I helped her in so many ways, the boy who wants to borrow a dollar, and then laughs and says "you're gonna miss us" with a wink. In my class of Asperger's boys, each one lines up to give me a big hug goodbye. I don't have the heart to tell them that I may not have them for art next year, but I promise them that I will see them in September. Then there are the students whose moms have died, and who decide that I am ok...and joke about me being their school mom.
And with all of that unconditional love, stress melts away, and I know in the end, I have done a good job and have done it with love.
Art by one of my students...a truly beautiful soul.
Patti O Teacher
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