I had to laugh when I came into school this afternoon, trying to get my planning for the week completed, sub plans for Thursday and Friday finalized for my being gone to MACUL, and doing a bit of cleaning in my classroom. No matter how frustrating the kids are, when I come in and they aren't here, when it is quiet in the room and the hall, when the chairs are up on the tables, and their disarray of papers and pencils left behind sit silently waiting for the return of their owners, I always feel a sadness, an emptiness, and a wishing they were here.
As I make plans for each hour, each class, each day, I think about this student and that one, knowing he will have trouble with this assignment, she will like learning about this, and am curious as to how another will approach the new tasks set before her. I smile at their little notes and cards hung around the room for me, linger at the multi-colored date already in place for Monday in someone's 7th grade scrawl, and check to see whose math book has been left behind.
When it comes down to the truth, my job is pretty darned good most of the time, and I feel lucky to have it. I am blessed with parents who care, students who make me smile, and a feeling that I DO make a difference for many.