A class act.

Time.....
It goes by.

I logged on to my blog today and was astonished to find I had not posted in over a month. Whoops! Life happens.

And so many things have happened.
Foremost in my mind is the Virginia Tech massacre. I cannot imagine having so much sadness and confusion in my life that the only way I felt I could remedy my problems would be to carry out murder and suicide. Suicide has never made since to me. People talk about it as a way to solve their problems. But I don't buy that. I think it is cowardly and a cop out. A cry for help? Yes. A solution to a problem? No.

The only good that can come from a situation such as this is that it forces us to take a closer look at our lives and the lives of those around us. I walk in to my classroom every day and wonder what those young people have going on outside of school. It makes me realize that I need to carefully pay attention to them -- heed every word, look, and action. Watch carefully, be available for them, care about them. For some, school is the only place these children receive a "hello", a hot meal, a caring word, a safe place to be. Isn't that unfortunate? But it makes my job all the more important. It is difficult to be in a profession in which I constantly have to defend myself to the public. It seems that what teachers do is never "good enough" -- or "enough" for that matter. I have heard it all -- "Those who can, do. Those who don't, teach." "Must be nice to only have to work 9 months a year." "All teachers do is complain about how much money the make." I will never complain about my job. I chose it. It is what I have always wanted to do and I love it. Is it always easy? No. But I knew that going in. Does it always seem fair? No. But what is? Do I get all the support I would like? No. But it only makes me work harder with what I have.

There are very few people in this world who could not look back on their school years and think of just one teacher who made an impact on his or her life. Think about it. One. Just one. There are probably more. I remember the school secretary who greeted me with a smile every morning. The band director who pushed me to try new instruments in high school. The English teacher who "snapped" when he liked my writing. The math teacher who stayed after school with me until I finally understood derivatives. The counselor with an open door. The coach who told me he appreciated my hard work. It is my hope that I can be that teacher for just one student in each of my classes. My emotional attachment to my students is my strength and my weakness as a teacher. I allow myself to invest all of myself in to my students. That is a blessing and a curse. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I love the hugs I get. I love it when a high school sophomore writes "I <3 Mrs V" on my white board. I love it when a student leaves me a sticky note on my computer. I love having students in my room after school to do homework, play cards, or just talk. And I love connecting with students academically. I love hearing "This is a great book!" or "I didn't think I would like Romeo and Juliet, but it it pretty cool." And the best thing? The thing I love hearing the most?

"Thanks, Mrs. V."

That's what it is all about.

Seeks has spoken.