This past week I came to the full understanding that my profession builds masochism in seemingly normal people. It is sad really. Before becoming a teacher, I stayed away from things that I knew would hurt me, but now… I go into the year knowing full well that I will build ties and let love grow, but in the end those ties will be severed. The kids will go on, and I will be left with pictures of them as mementos of happier times. But what really kills me, is that after all of the hard work we put into them, some will realize right away that they are semi-adults. They realize that they do not need our approval for every detail of their lives. We as teachers cease to be a sounding board to them. It is masochistic because we work so hard to make them independent, but really it hurts when they are no longer dependant on us.
I don’t think most of the kids realize just how much we worry about them. But until this week, I didn’t really think about how much they, not so much worry about us, but think about us. This past week when school started, I was sent emails and texts throughout the day from former students just wanting to let me know they missed me and hoped I had a good first day. To top that off, three of my most beloved students came to see me throughout the week. And it really made me think when one of my new students remarked that “Miss Adams, your going to forget all about us in a few years…”, is that possible. All I can say is that it would be like forgetting your first love. It simply can not happen. Will I remember every child? Probably not, just as they will not remember me. But there are those, like the three that came to see me and the ones that sent me messages that I will never forget. That love can not be changed by time. And even if after this week they never call or write or visit, the memories will go on being cherished.
What it comes down to is this: for all of my students, if I had all the money in the world, I would make sure that they were cared for and that no harm could ever come to them. I wish that I could make sure that they were always safe and loved and happy. But I know I can’t, and I guess that is the masochism of teaching. We wish that we could give them the world wrapped in a beautiful package, but we can only put them on the road to find it and hope that our dreams for them and their dreams come true.
