Hey, you guys.
I know I only met you this afternoon, but I’m totally crazy about you.
I know it sucks to be in summer school. Like, it really, really sucks. And I know it must be weird to have a bunch of twenty-two year olds–their arms teeming with chart paper and clipboards and investment plans and matching lunchboxes–descend on your school every morning.
But as weird and crappy as the situation must feel, I’m not sorry, because I am so thrilled to get to spend time with you.
And I mean you, E, who wrote that you want to become a teacher because you want to help other kids fulfill their goals. Way to play those heartstrings. I showed your answer to a bunch of other teachers at dinner; they all melted a little.
And you, R, who are so bright that you move in leaps and bounds ahead of the class. You don’t have the patience to wait for us; I’ll have to catch up to you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t today, but I’m learning, too.
And you, A–especially you–who are so small and so quiet. You were my favorite part of today: I know you didn’t want to talk, and I know how shy you must feel. You don’t know how good it made me feel when you raised your hand.
I know I’m not a great teacher yet, that I’m still learning. You don’t know that, but I know. I’ll get better, for each of you. But I also know that today, in class, I felt so present and so comfortable and so happy. Institute is brutal, but you’re totally worth it.