A Student I Would Like to Meet…

A few weeks ago, I was walking around the school at the end of the day after all the students had left, and I met one of my favorite employees here at school. She is a member of the custodial staff. I have no idea why this question entered my head, but as we were talking I asked her if any student had ever said “Thank you” for the job she did at the school. I thought I knew the answer.

“Well… actually, there was ONE student who came up to me and said thank you.”

What? Really? I thought it was impossible for kids in middle school to think of anyone but themselves! How cool, I thought. That is definitely a student I would like to meet.

Paraprofessional Praise!

There are people in the Minneapolis and surrounding school districts that deserve many more thank-yous than they will ever receive and deserve much more credit than will ever be allowed (and probably more money than most will ever take home), and yet, they do their job brilliantly. I am not even a REAL paraprofessional. I am just a substitute, but in touring all the different schools in which I have been lucky enough to work for a day or two, I have met some extraordinary people.This post is simply a thank you to all the people, who might not always be recognized, but who work so hard and with such dedication to make schools better.

Tomorrow, it will feel like -21 degrees outside. Part of my job as a substitute will be to stand outside in the morning and welcome the students to school, and to ensure a bit of safety. -21 degrees is no joke! That is cold!  But that is the job description. It won’t be the teachers standing outside welcoming the students, it will be the paraprofessionals. I only have to do it for one day. The REAL paraprofessionals must do it EVERYDAY of the school year, no matter the conditions. I admire these people and thank them for what they do. I am proud to be one of them, even if it is only one day at a time.

Thank you paraprofessionals, for all that you do.

Middle School Heartbreak

Junior high school is brutal. I was probably considered one of the “cool kids” in junior high, and there are things I probably never experienced. Today was payback. My heart was shattered to a million pieces, and all I could do was sit and watch.

Honors Language Arts. A brilliant student. Unique. Likes to discuss philosophy. Has Buddhist leanings. An assignment is given. Get into groups of two or three for “partner novel writing”. Nobody wants to be her partner. Tears. Red eyes. Tissues. Defiance. Shaking hands and red, puffy eyes overrule the “I’m good” answer. Students watch. Teacher glides around the room.

I sit in my chair, thinking. Judging those callous students. Yelling privately at the teacher, “HELP HER!”. I sit in the back of the room, just like junior high. Unable to console. Not even knowing where to begin to pick up the shattered pieces of two broken hearts.

Jenny, the Beautiful…

Her eyes will never focus directly upon my own and her spine will never straighten enough to allow her to move without her wheelchair. I do not always understand the limited words she speaks out loud and I will never understand all the thoughts that flow through her mind at any given moment. I only understand that she is beautiful, a kind of beautiful I can only hope to achieve.

Her spine that has grown, in ways that mine has not, will never fully support the diminutive weight of her lithe figure. Our mental capacities will probably never equal. She may never be able to play the tambourine or run across a field. She will never be able to do many of the things that other children certainly desire. But, she can smile. And she can laugh. And she knows what it means to be happy.

When I sit next to Jenny or I see her in the hall and she looks at me as only she can, a smile upon her face, with no other origin than pure happiness, only then do I know why I am alive. I am alive because she is alive. I am alive to be a friend, a teacher, a helper, a student… and she is alive to do the same.

Thank you, Jenny.