Thursday, May 13, 2010

School days

I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again: I love my job.

When I was in high school, junior or senior year, I decided I wanted to be an Art Teacher. I never changed my major in college. I have always been sure. I never thought I'd love being an elementary art teacher, but this is where I was offered a job, so I took it. Someone else knew better than me what was best for me because I can't imagine teaching anyone else.

Last week was Teacher Appreciation Week. I love, love, love the cards kids give me- especially the ones they make. Last year I got one from a third grader that said, "Thank you so much for getting me past that awkward stick figure drawing stage."

Girl, you haven't been to middle school. You ain't seen awkward yet.

One card, from a very, very intelligent 1st grader had what looked like a yellow "1", a plus sign, then a blue "1" equals a green "1". When I read it, I immediately thought, "Wow. I'm glad I don't teach him math." ...it took me a few moments to realize that those weren't numbers but just the colors: yellow plus blue equals green.

I like to teach art history to the kids because so few of them know the stories behind the pictures we look at. When we discuss an artist's life, they are always most interested in when they died, how old were they when it happened, and how did it happen (which I have to gloss over for this age group for quite a few artists- rough crowd).

So, one day I wrote the problem out on the board to figure out how old an artist was when he died and how old he'd be if he were still alive today. When I started writing on the board I noticed an awed silence and heard whispers around the crowd, "oh my gosh. mrs.f can do math..."

What's best are the stories I come home with. John loves to hear what happened at school that day. Some stories are happy, too many will break your heart, but my favorites are the funny ones.

I was walking by a first grade class in the hallway on my way to my room and I noticed a cute shirt... then I looked again. It worn by a sweet, quiet little girl who gives hugs and says thank you. The background was a giant rainbow (think gay pride rainbow), in the foreground were two female silhouettes (like the kind on the door of public restrooms) and they were holding hands. The words on the shirt said, "Lez B Friendz".

This girl had no idea and I'd bet money whoever bought her that shirt and let her wear it to school had no idea either. It WAS cute.

During Field Day I had a Kindergarten class right after their time at Field Day. They were hot, sweaty and exhausted. We had a laid-back lesson that day. When we lined up, a little boy who can be quite a handful, raised his hand. When I called on him, he said, "Mrs. F... I smell like... I smell like... I smell like HOT CHICKEN!" He was bewildered and I was doing my best at suppressing laughter.

I know I can't change the world, and honestly, I don't think I'd want to- but if I can change their worlds for the better, I've lived a good life. Because they sure have brightened mine.

1 comment:

Corrie said...

I can't stop laughing at the hot chicken comment! Love it!