mrs. w, can you just shrink and be our age again?

it's been a rough december. there's so much uncertainty about where we'll be next year. it makes working so urgent. there's so much i want my students to know.

last week, we had to address some character issues with one of my classes. it was very hard and personally disappointing for me on several levels. sometimes i wish older kids were more like kindergartners, young enough for you to take their little faces in your hands, shrink down to their level and say, "i love you and i know you're better than this so stopit!"

on the other hand, i was invited to our teacher/student sleepover with the tenth grade girls. love those kids. they wish i was sixteen, and i kind of wish it too when i hang out with them. amazing, beautiful, precious. i can take their sweet faces in my hands and tell them i love them. they don't mind.

this week was finals. i cried over some of the essays i read from my logic students. one girl wrote, "sometimes all i wish is that i can fit it." it's so easy to block out what i see on a daily basis and focus on my job more than i focus on loving these students. it's moments like these that remind me that my work is for something bigger than the correct use of commas.

and then we have days like today. finals ended yesterday and we wanted to give the kids a day dedicated solely to the celebration of christmas and a successful semester. we had our advent convocation, followed by three hours and twenty minutes of wii tournaments, christmas movies, card games, and a dance off. (this is just one of the benefits of attending/teaching at a high school with 80 students). it was fantastically fun.

what was more amazing was how affected i was by the gifts. having moved from grammar school to upper school, i really expected the teacher gifts to take a downward spiral this year. (not that i really care at all. my kids are my gift. and that's super cheesy, so you know that if i'm willing to post it, it must be true). anyway, in fifth grade i received gifts because i had 26 students who bought gifts for two teachers. in upper school, however, i only spend an hour or two with each kid. combined with their incessant need to be cool, the faltering economy, and the fact that they have eight teachers instead of two, i expected a couple of christmas cards and a bottle of lotion at best.

WRONG!

i have two boxes of fudge, turtle brownies, peanut butter balls, various assortments of cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, chocolate covered peanut butter, peppermint bark, hershey kisses, cinnamon roasted pecans, four bottle of lotion, two bottles of soap, ornaments, a really pretty christmas candy dish, a starbucks card, a jason's deli card, and a three foot long box (no joke) of cadbury chocolate fingers. (courtesy of drury, who i am sure gained immense amusement not only from the size of the box, but also from the thoughts of his teacher eating fingers.) i think there's even more stuff i'm forgetting, but trust me, it took four trips to the car to load up.

the best thing was that the kids don't change much from fifth to tenth grade. they approach you a little shyly and hand you the gift. some of them run away immediately (boys) and some of them stare at you in anticipation. for the latter, you open the gift and gush. i gush even when they're not there, simply because i like them all so much and am so pleased to know they like me back. now i know some of their moms went to wal-mart, bought eight identical ornaments with eight identical bags, lined them up, dropped them in, filled out eight labels and gave them to their child with stern instructions for their delivery. i'm not stupid. but not everyone did that.

and sometimes, i get notes like this:

Dear Mrs. Wortham.
Thank you for being a great teacher. Your literature and history classes are always fun. I hope you have a merry Christmas.
Your student,
Student D

i know it's standard, but it's amazing to me, and i'll keep it for always.

sigh. love those kids.