Summer Morning Self-Indulgence

A thunderstorm brews outside as I write...what a perfect way to spend a summer morning.  I will miss these moments of self-centered indulgence when the school year begins.  I have earned it.  I was outside at 6:45 AM weeding the flower garden, thinning the ridiculously overgrown orange and yellow annuals I planted two months ago.  Who knew they would turn into bushes that dward the little red flowers I planted.  (And no, I do not know their names - I threw away the Lowe's tags already, darn it)

These quiet moments of unadulterated writing pleasure, however, soon will be replaced by opportunities to contribute to the world in a more far reaching way than a few lines written for a blog entitled "Professor M...".  Students will pour into the halls of our middle school dreading or anticipating another school year, and this, my blog friends, is when my opportunity to impact yet another future generation in some small way begins.

On August 11th, my former seventh graders will either hug me or ignore me (we are now eighth graders, Mrs. Mort!).  Some of my new seventh graders will come up and greet me immediately as they forged connections with me last year.  Others will hang back willing to wait for formal classroom introductions.  The new sixth graders will have a deer in the headlight look as they try repeatedly to unlock their lockers (0, left and past 5 and then land on 5, right to 32).  Some with tears will look and me and break my heart.  I will ask if they need help, and that look of relief and appreciation will flood me with love.  Those are the sixth graders with whom I will forge connections with a year early.

The students will enter my class, and they will wonder the following:  Am I in the right room? Who is this lady? What does she teach? Is she nice?  Strict?  Will we have fun in here?  Does she give lots of homework?  What can I get away with in here?  Will she teach me anything of value and do it in an interesting way?  Will she let me use the bathroom whenever I want to?  Will she yell?  What does she already know about me?  Will she base her opinion of me on my older brothers or sisters?  Will she help me when I have a problem?

I am sure many other questions will fill their minds, but these are the ones I still remember asking the first day of school in the seventh grade many years ago.  While students have become more sophisticated than in my day, they still seem to wonder the same things that I used to.

This is the day where some students will decide they like me, some will decide they don't, and still others will withhold judgment until a relationship opportunity presents itself.  If I connect, they will like me.  If I miss the opportunity, they won't feel valued and will either dismiss me or resent me.  If I am to help these kids appreciate all that reading and writing has to offer, the power it gives us to problem solve, to visit other places, the power to communicate, it is crucial that I collect connections with fervor.  The way to do that?  Listen, listen, pay attention, genuinely care about what they care about, and listen.  Then, and only then, will the child feel you are worthy of his or her respect.  What an honor and privelege it is when they decide you are worthy.  It humbles me every time. 

So as my very self-absorbed summer draws to a close, I feel refreshed, reenergized, and ready for a year or giving everything I am to others with the hope I will remember that I must take care of myself in order to give to anyone and will undoubtedly ignore myself several times.  When I feel too exhausted to do anything else and think I can't continue at the pace I am going, a single connection with a new child will recharge every cell in my body and I will continue on, knowing I made a contribution to the world.