Teacher Appreciation Week is here, and if you are like me, you are looking for some free goodies around town, but fully recognize that appreciation isn’t something teachers have come to expect. I’m not whining, trust me, but teachers know that May is a month of chaos, and survival is often the name of the game. If someone has something nice to say about us, then all the better. As I was thinking about what to write for this blog, I posed this question to my son and his girlfriend as I was driving her home: “What do you appreciate about your teachers?” I’m going to share our conversation because it was so surprising and, frankly, a bit more inspiring than the freebies I’m still looking for.
Oliver:
I like it when teachers treat you like a human. Like you aren’t just a student in their class, but an actual person.
Carlyin (girlfriend):
I love it when teachers are happy to be there, not just because they are getting paid. Like Mr. S, Mr. G, you (I taught Carlyin in eighth grade).
Oliver:
I appreciate when teachers are funny.
Me:
Like dad joke funny or ironic funny or accidentally funny?
Oliver:
All of them, honestly. When teachers are goofy and aren’t afraid to be human.
Carlyin:
The teachers who dress up for spirit days or joke around with you are good too.
Me:
I was a minion when I had you, Carlyin. It is outside of my comfort zone, actually. I’m glad that it paid off. But, what if you aren’t funny? I’m not really funny.
Oliver:
That’s OK too. Maybe it isn’t exactly ‘funny’ that I mean. I guess I also mean that they are themselves, whatever that is for them. Authentic. I like Mr. K, and he isn’t funny.
Me:
What else do y’all appreciate?
Oliver:
I still remember in second grade when a kid in my class had a dog that died, and Mrs. R stopped everything, and we sat in a circle for like half the morning, telling stories about our pets and why we will always remember them. Some of us were crying, and we still kept going. It was one of the best things I remember about elementary school, even though it was wicked sad.
Carlyin:
I cried a lot in school.
Me:
Me too. My school nurse was like my best friend. What about what they teach? Or how?
Carlyin:
Sort of, but less than you think.
Oliver:
I don’t have to like whatever it is much, but I like when they do. It rubs off on you, I guess.
Around this time, we pulled into her driveway, and the conversation was over, just like that. However, as I sat down to write this, it occurred to me how much “wisdom” was dropped on me tonight. Neither of them really said much about what was taught, or even how, but rather they cared about us, the teachers, and who we are.