What I Didn't Know

I didn't know that years of school and a college degree would be of little 
consolation when facing a room full of bright little eyes on the 
first day of school. I thought I was ready...


I didn't know that five minutes can seem like five hours when there is 
idle time and an eight hour school day far too short for a 
well-planned day of teaching.


I didn't know that teaching children was only a fraction of my job. 
No one tells you about the conferences and phone calls, faculty meetings and committees, paperwork and paperwork...


I didn't know that it took so long to cut out letters, draw and color pictures, 
laminate-all for those bulletin boards that were always "just there"...


I didn't know that I would become such a scavenger, and that teaching
 materials would feel like pure gold in my hands... 


I didn't know that an administration and co-workers that support 
and help you could make such a difference...


I didn't know that there would be children that I loved and cared for 
and stayed up late worrying about, who, one day, 
would simply not show up. 
And that I would never see them again...


I didn't know that I can't always dry little tears and mend broken hearts.
I thought I could always make a difference...


I didn't know that the sound of children's laughter could drown 
out the sound of all the world's sadness...


I didn't know that children could feel so profoundly. 
A broken heart knows no age.


I didn't know that a single "yes ma'am" from a disrespectful child 
or a note in my desk that says "You're the best!" could make me feel like 
I'm on top of a mountain and forget the valleys I forged to get there...


I never knew that after one year of teaching I would feel so much 
wiser, more tired, sadder and happier, all at once.
And that I would no longer call teaching my job,
but my privilege.

Anonymous