Everyone who knows me well, knows that all I want to do, this time of year, is work in my gardens. It is my spring obsession (my obsessions are a subject for another day). I say I play in the dirt. I know so many folks who are true gardeners and their work is fabulous. I play! It gives me joy, time alone to think, and to heal.
Several years ago while finishing (I'm never truly finished) a bed, I started thinking how teaching is a lot like gardening and my children a lot like my plants. There is a lot of planning, a lot of evaluating and a lot of modifing. Children and plants come in all different sizes with different needs. Some will grow and thrive no matter where they are, some need a little extra attention. Sometimes I get it right the first time, but more often than not I have to change things up and move things around. Children and plants need dirt, sunshine, water and nutrition, and a few earthworms never hurt anyone. They both need protection from pests and illness. There are always surprises popping up.
As this school year passes, I sigh. It was a very good year! I started the year out with ten little sprouts. Each had their own design and needs, but once planted in my room they thrived together. We had challeges. We had to move our classroom to a temporary location just before springbreak; they never missed a beat.
There is a difference between my plants and my garden. I put my plants to bed in the fall. Hoping that I fed them and protected them well enough that they will return to me in the spring. If I did my best as a teacher, my children leave me just before the summer solstice; and, when the weather becomes crisp, and the leaves begin to fall they will move to another garden to be taken care of my another gardener.
Yes today is my day to look back and evaluate. I will really miss this class. They are special. And, as is always the case, they taught me far more than I could have ever taught them.
So with heavy heart I send my bluebirds off to seek and explore the future. I know they will soar.
I didn't cry this morning. Not sure why. When I picked him up the ride home was tough. I laid on my bed and looked at his "yearbook" again and again. Loved your post.
ReplyDeleteOne little bluebird already asked me whether we can go visit Ms. Bonnie next year when we drop sister off at school. We sure will miss you!
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