I am a firm believer in everything happens for a reason. The steps that we walk and the moments we share on this earth are all part of our journey. They are all part of the plan that our Heavenly Father has for us. As a Christian, I have faith in these facts and I know there’s a greater good in place for everything that happens. But I am also imperfect. And there are times that I want nothing more than to rewrite history. Change what has happened. Erase moments. Write my own fairy tale ending.
Brian killing himself and all that transpired in those days and weeks, would be the first chapter I would rewrite. I don’t know where I would start the story over. Would I choose the same setting? The same characters? Where would I put the dramatic rise? The conflict? How would I pen the resolution? I don’t know. That’s the part of rewriting history that is hard. Which moments do you change? Erase? Make better? Everything happens for a reason. Even suicide, I suppose.
I am honored to work at the best school in the district. With the best staff. The best parents. The best students. Lately though? It hasn’t felt that way. Across the district (I’m willing to bet it’s actually across the nation) kids are changing. The face of education is changing. We are being sent babies who are the products of divorce, suicide, jailed parents, cancer, deceased siblings, runaway parents. They are being abused: sexually, physically, emotionally. And we are expected to take these babies who are hungry, malnourished, unloved and unwanted, sit them down in a desk and teach them reading, writing, and math. They are worried about what they are going home to, not how to do two digit by two digit subtraction with regrouping. Their bellies are growling. They aren’t worried about contractions or nouns or verb tenses. Their minds are racing in an unmedicated ADHD fit, and slowing down to care about your lesson is the last thing they could do. But it is still our job as teachers to teach them! Increase their test scores. Help them read. Learn.
This job gets harder all the time. We are being sent these little people that are struggling. They are screaming and yelling and in a rage. They are throwing furniture. They are destroying whole classrooms and pods. They are so disrespectful and smart mouthed. They know every swear word in the book, some I don’t even know. And we, as teachers, are at our wits end. We are tired and worn out and defeated feeling. We are reeling. Not because we are upset and angry at the kids, because that’s not it at all. We are sad. We are crushed for these kids. We pour our souls into our jobs and into our kids. When they hurt, we hurt. They are hurting and angry and acting out at school. And we are seemingly losing control of our building. It has become a war zone of little people that are begging for help and love and peace. And I have been a part of that building, that staff for long enough to know that we can dig deep and take back our building.
We can rewrite the stars. Those babies are counting on us to do just that. Rewrite their stars. I have spent the last almost eight years working to rewrite Amelia and Emerson’s stars. I am not going to let them become a statistic. I am not going to let them be just another excuse, another problem kid in the world. So we talk and bond and pray and hold each other. We talk through problems. I discipline and hold them accountable. I praise and reward the good and extinguish the bad. I am rewriting their stars.
We all sit on so many committees and talk the talk. Our days are filled with acronyms of things that are supposed to help. PBIS. ACES. RTI. One idea after another and we throw everything at the teachers so they can throw everything at the students. We don’t need more PBIS. We don’t need more ACES training. We don’t need more conversations or more committees or more mandates. The kids don’t need those things. They need love. They need trust. They need relationships. They need accountability. They need structure and boundaries and support. They need hugs and high fives delivered genuinely. They need to know they are safe and important and loved. Who better to show them these things than the staff and teachers at my school?! We are the best. We expect the best.
So, I am calling on my staff and teachers who know these things. We need to take our school back. We need to be the elementary school that I know we really are. So, I am proposing that we take our school back. We are the best of the best. We are brilliant educators with hearts of gold. Let’s rewrite their stars! They don’t have to be destined for trouble and hard times! We don’t have to sit back and watch things unravel!
So, we talk to each other. We don’t hide the elephant in the room. We lay it on the table, embrace the chaos, come up with a plan, and work on moving forward. We do what we do best! We love them! We form relationships with them. Melissa and I walk the hallways and try hard to form relationships with the toughest little kiddos. We give hugs and high fives and secret handshakes. We remind them of expectations and direct them back to class or back to the rules. And they respond! Even just a little bit, but they respond! They crave attention and love. They want boundaries. So, reach out across grade levels and classrooms. Find one or two that you can bond with. Every week make it your mission to connect with one kid who may need you. One kids who maybe don’t even know. Make a connection. Draw them in. Give them a reason to want to come to school. Give them another adult to look for in the hallways.
Encourage your fellow teachers too. I don’t know how many staff members I have talked to lately that are done. Fed up. Want to quit. Are actively looking for jobs not in education. I’ll admit that it has crossed my mind a time or two lately. What a loss that would be! For any one of us to choose a different path. You are all so amazing! You are all meant to be in our building! You are there for a reason, a purpose. Things are tough right now, but don’t quit on these kids! Don’t quit on each other! Make it a point to reach out to your fellow staff and teachers. Give them kudos. Tell them they are amazing.
And if you’re the faithful type, or even if you’re not, pray for them! I invite any staff member or teacher that is interested to join me in my office at 3:30 on Wednesday afternoons starting after spring break. Write it in your planner. Make time! Just a few minutes! Bring names of kids we need to raise up in prayer. Bring your toughest kids to the table and let’s talk about their best qualities. Bring staff members who you know need a prayer too! We’ll pray and come together for positive sharing. We’ll jot notes to these families letting them know how great their kids are. We’ll share with each other what is working and what isn’t. Just a few minutes. Just a few simple words. Just a few moments to rewrite their stars. We may feel powerless in some of these situations, but God is powerful and He listens to our prayers. And if you can’t make it in the afternoon, let’s talk about a morning during the week we can do the same thing!
What an opportunity we have right now this very second. To turn this around. To make this a positive place again and to rewrite the stars...for our students, for their families, for our friends and colleagues that lay it all out each and every day. We are the best staff in the district. We need to heal. We need to help our students heal. We need to rewrite our stars. Because I am not willing to stand by and let things happen the way they are. And I’m going to tag each and every one of you that I know won’t let that happen either. It’s time, friends! It’s time to rewrite our stars right here. Right now. Let’s do this! I’m ready! Who will join me?
Rewrite the stars...one star at a time...
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