It’s always a joy to see students succeed and to know I was a part of their past. Even as a sub I’ve made connections and am excited to watch students grow and be successful. Here is one small example written Ceci Angel. I wish RMS – the soon to be former RMS – tons of best wishes for next year!
Thanks to the Leaf for publishing this
How Do We Say Goodbye?
Other RMS links:
Thrones and Bones
One of the blogs I follow has photo challenges. This one grabbed my attention because I took a picture this week at Oak Mountain State Park – just because I thought it looked like a face. Then I came across this photo challenge later in the week. Ta-da!
You can enjoy more photos – click the pic below
“I just wanted to know what it felt like to be someone you look at.” – Ove, from A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman
This week I was witness to a modern day middle school dance. I use the term dance loosely. It was more like a sweaty, sugar high, hormone fest. I never attended a dance until the Prom my senior year, unless you count square dancing in fourth grade. However, some things don’t change. We all want to know what it feels like to be the one someone else wants to look at. To be someone that a special someone else wants to be with.
He could steady a one-hundred-and-eighty pound man by himself, fold up and carry a wheelchair one-handed, but that didn’t count on the basketball court or in grammar or much of anywhere. – from Stand Tall by Joan Bauer
There are skills that are sometimes taught, sometimes caught, that often go unnoticed. I saw this a few weeks ago in a fourth grade classroom. I was standing in the back of a room while another teacher was reading a story about Rosa Parks to the students. A chubby, red faced boy in the back was kind of sniffling and putting his head down. I wasn’t sure if he was ill or sad or if I should approach him. Before I could decide, a student just acted on his instinct. I watched a sharply dressed young black student walk all the way across the room, put his hand on the blubbering boy’s shoulder, and speak kindly to him. I was so touched. I thought how proud Rosa Parks would have been to see that moment. I read more to the class about Mrs. Parks, and her struggles and we had a wonderful discussion.
A short while later, I saw the boy smiling broadly who had before been so sad. Seems he thought he’d lost a watch and was going to get in a lot of trouble, but he found it way back in his desk.
I didn’t get a chance to speak to the kind boy, but I wish I had. I wish I had told him I noticed.