A Precious Privilege

Happy June; today I'm celebrating 62 years of being alive

and 32 years of being married to the love of my life.

So I fancied it the perfect time to do some reflecting.

First of all, huge thanks to Ann for sending me this sunrise shot

and to Jo for posting this incredible Marcus Aurelius wisdom.

The older I become, the most I realize just how important it is to pause and reflect. So this year, I decided to ask my students to join me in this practice by inviting them to write a reflection letter. It would include but wasn't limited to what they appreciated about our class family, what they were going to miss most, a favorite memory and how they have grown beyond the Spanish content we covered.

Their answers amazed and inspired me.

They didn't say that I really knew my pedagogy well; they said they loved learning about mental health and wellBEing on Wellness Wednesday.

They didn't say they'd never forget taking notes, but they did say they'd always remember that walking through the door meant they were about to have fun. Play is, after all, one of our brain's favorite ways to learn.

They didn't write about the cool cultural stuff we learned, but instead they thought it was cool that the room felt like a safe space because we were like a really close family. One student specifically said that she was happy that Aquí Somos Familia was more than just words on the wall.

And they didn't talk about the great grammar or vocabulary units. Instead they thanked me for teaching them values by smiling at them, caring about them, being patient (and not yelling at them), normalizing mistakes, teaching them about second chances, and giving them grace.

They also loved the dancing, the yoga, the music.

One special 8th-grade boy, a child I had the pleasure of enrolling into kindergarten years ago after his mom passed away and he came to town to live with his grandparents, stopped by the day before the last day to ask me if I could "sing You Are My Sunshine one more time, for old time's sake," tomorrow if he stopped back by. I said, "Absolutely!" and then prayed he wouldn't forget.

Sure enough, the next day, after my third period learners had all walked out of my classroom for the last time, in walks my friend, ready for that song. His song. Our song. The song his mom used to sing to him at tuck-in time. Fighting back tears, I took out my ukulele to strum while I sang You Are My Sunshine to my young superhero, one last time, for old time's sake. His beautiful brown eyes looking into mine so lovingly. He childish grin which might have a little stubble on it now. His precious face trying to hold back tears, too, as I strummed my little Kinder buddy into high school.

When I shared with his grandma how much that moment meant to me, she responded: I’m sure you don’t know this, but I sang that to his mama just before she flew into Jesus’ arms. You have been so good for my kids. We love you. And this time, the tears flowed freely.

It's those precious moments that mean the most,

the older wiser and more reflective I become.

I will always cherish their heartfelt reflection letters,

which are now in a binder with this beautiful treasure,

my retirement portrait drawn by my talented Rosa.

Finally, one last thank-you note from a parent on the last day,

to put a bow on top of the present that I got to unwrap for my

39 years in education with SO very many families.

Hi Mrs. Gruener, I just want to say thank you for being a great teacher and for your caring heart; my son is not a fan of school but he loved your class. He never complained about doing the work and he really listened to your stories and life lessons. I think in all of this school years, you are only the third teacher than made an impact on him! He just texted me that he's going to miss you. He has been wearing the "because I said I would" bracelet that you gave him and he has been giving me hugs again, so thank you so much and many blessings on your next chapter.

SEL in a nutshell ... he's hugging again. He has become more self-aware and he's now putting himself in his mom's shoes, moving from me to WE. Isn't that one of the best gifts we can give to our families, for our future?

It's my passion ... and it's a precious privilege.

Our colorful class room is dismantled and ready for a deep cleaning.

Onward I go now into an exciting new chapter of my story;

thank you for joining me on the joy-filled journey.