I pulled into my classroom an hour ago and was shocked into reality when I opened the door and everything was gone. We moved yesterday.I felt about as empty as that room as I walked its four corners. My first day as a teacher was spent in that room. My father unlocked the door for me and walked me in as if it were my first day as a student and not the teacher. My mommy bought the curtains and sat and drank coffee as I hung them telling me what a good room it was.So much time spent there with my son BJ as he alternated between yelling at me and praising me when he was trying to show me how to do something on the computer. Fortunately, hes not a teacher. He has no patience. Lol My students had a baby shower for me when I was expecting CaliJune and her first debut was in that room. She was at every single celebration and my student family was like her family. She insisted on having her birthday party there in September because, she said, it would be the last party ever in that room. And my babies. Oh my soul, my babies! So many good, good people have sat in that room and allowed me to teach them. Ive rejoiced with them as they passed their test and cried with them if they missed it by a few points-assuring them that theyd pass soon and they always did. There has been so much rejoicing and crying in that room. My students have never just been my students. They have always been like my family and are family to one another. Weve been together for births and miscarriages, birthdays and funerals, proud accomplishments and sad disappointments. They have spread all over the country and still they stayed connected to me and that room. Calling that number to share something with me ten years after they left physically but never mentally. Ive met the most amazing people in that room-some strangers and others were actual reconnections to my past. I went to school years ago with Rhonda Meadows, Dennis ODell, and Noreen Carlson and later became their teacher. All became my best friends. Second chance? Naah, I consider it a God wink. We found each other again because of that room and because there were things we needed to learn from one another. I saw Tim Boone for the first time in thirty years in that room. He actually moved into the apartment upstairs and CaliJune and I now have happy memories of that place as well. Happy, enduring, meaningful memories. Thats what I take with me. Thats what I will hold onto as they tear that building down. I cried as I sat in my new room alone this morning. My daddy cant walk me in and my mommy cant sit and talk to me. BUT as I unpacked the apple baskets she gave me and the mailbox he brought me, I smiled. Tangible pieces of them in the new room. Theyre ever present in my soul but its so good to have something to pick up that they touched with their own hands. Thats a beautiful first memory. Peace and love, my friends.
Posted on: Tue, 07 Oct 2014 12:54:12 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015