When You Were My Teacher

What a week it has been, one that started with a hurricane's frightening fury for 9 hours, followed by a 14-hour power outage for us and longer than that for millions of others. I'm sad that we lost this special front-yard tree, a maple that John planted a decade or so ago, so that I'd get to experience the autumn colors that I'm accustomed to from my childhood.  

I'm so grateful that the storm passed and we are safe.

This morning, I had a two-hour visit with PA educator Craig Shapiro 

which has me reflecting and thinking about emotional safety.

I posed this question on Facebook and have gotten some beautiful replies:

Jo: I would hope my students would say something like this: When you were my teacher, you believed me even when I didn’t believe in myself. You cared about me as a person and took time to talk to me every day. You helped me learn about setting goals and you gave me the tools to help me reach them. But most importantly, when you were my teacher, you were also my friend.

Kelly: When you were my teacher, I remember you greeting me at the door of your classroom with a smile and a hug or fist bump depending on my mood that morning. I remember you asking me about my day and truly wanting to know the answer. You were always someone I felt safe with and cared for even on those days when I felt others did not. That year and beyond I always knew you had my back and that meant so much to me. 

Jennifer: When you were my teacher I felt loved. I felt safe. I felt like I could come to you with any problem and you would help me solve it. You never judged me and never judged my family. You always helped us. You treated me like I was a person in your family. I learned from you because I was not scared to ask questions. I was most comfortable in your class. You listened. You have such a big heart. You treat everyone with kindness. You taught us to do the same. I still think of that today.

Melanie: When you were my teacher: You had high expectations of me and you helped me meet them.

Penny: I learned that school is a safe place where I am loved.

Wouldn't that be a fun back-to-school discussion starter with staff?

It has me thinking about this weekend visit from a (former) student.

Pierce moved to Bales Intermediate during his 4th-grade year; besides having to adjust to a new school, he was displaced by hurricane Harvey, and worse, his third-grade brother was battling what we would find out later was a life-threatening illness. So, our favorite ventriloquist, Dennis Lee, gave him this baby Mickey puppet to lift his spirits. Seven years later, this thoughtful teenager came over because he'd been doing some cleaning, found the puppet, and wanted to add it to my collection.

While we were sitting on the couch catching up, Pierce told me:

When you were my teacher, you were the only one

 I felt comfortable talking to about losing Dean.

Sigh. Holding their hearts is such holy work.

And when my little brother died, guess where I ended up?

In this moment, the student became the master,

his chair my serenity spot, his dog my comfort and support.

It was Pierce who snapped this shot of what grief looked like in me.

Our safety with one another was reciprocal,

and Cooper could sense exactly what I needed.

So let's turn that sentence stem around:

When I was his teacher, I felt grateful to be his confidante,

to hold space for him, to lean in and listen, to normalize

and validate his feelings of grief, of loss, of deep sadness.

If you're going back into another school year,

you could even turn this into a letter to your students:

Now that I am your teacher ... 

What would your promise be?

Just something to think about; I'll let you know when 

that podcast episode airs in a few weeks.

In other news, our new book has earned a Mom's Choice Gold Award.

I'm blessed to have three Family-Friendly books on the market.

Signing off with a song in my soul; thank you for celebrating with me.