Back to School

Grandchildren off to first day of school (photo taken by their mom)

It's time for children and their teachers to go back to school, and it's the beginning of my second school year of retirement. I love all the memories of working with children, but I love my days now, too.

I'm looking forward to resuming my volunteer job as reading tutor one morning a week at one of the local schools. I continue to enjoy the idea of no plan books, no staff meetings, no professional development outlines, and no classroom discipline issues. No dealing with the latest new educational philosophy, or the latest in a changing cast of administrators. (You can tell I was so ready for retirement).

No schedule. It's a good life.

Homegrown Talent

I'm a sap for little kids performing on a stage, so when my sister and I recently went to the spring musical about insects performed at the James Bickley School by the first and second grades, I was ready to enjoy myself. I laughed, I cried, I clapped, I giggled, and I even learned a little about "bugs." I got hugs from my students in the HOSTS program, where I mentor students learning to read. My sister agreed that it was a wonderful experience; she spent some time meeting and congratulating several of the performers after the show, and she honestly had a hard time believing that they were only in the first and second grades.

If you have a chance to attend a performance at a local school, don't miss out! You will see what the kids have been learning, and you will be amazed at the wonderful talents displayed by both students and teachers. I promise you, you'll come away feeling pretty good about our schools.

Dear Bradley

Dear Bradley,


I’d like to tell you something about the retirement gift you left on my desk last year on my very last day of being a school librarian. I was just about to walk out the door when I saw it lying there. I knew that by then you were back in class, and I knew if I said good-bye to one more person I would start to cry. I also knew that, once started, I would have a hard time stopping. I was leaving so much behind—my career, my school, my library, my friends, and my wonderful students. So, I tucked your present into my pocket and continued on my way. When we got to our new home in a new state where I didn’t know anyone, I put your gift on my bedside table, with its little note still attached.

I don’t even know what to call the little gadget you gave me. I guess it’s a desk toy, shaped like a little hourglass. It reminds me of a tiny lava lamp, and when it is turned over the bubbles shift into a new design. Every time I see it, I turn it over and think about you. It brings back all my old school memories. When I turn the little “fidget gadget” over--

-I remember when you first came to school, a brand new first grader and a good reader already.
-I picture your cute little-boy "skater" haircut.
-I think about how kind you were to your classmates in 2nd grade, even when they weren’t being lovable.
-I remember your first disagreement with your best friend, and how hurt you were.
-I think about the tragedy that struck your family. It was way too much sadness for a little boy. Even the adults at school were worried about what to say when you came back, but you put us all at ease with your matter-of-fact approach and frank words.
-I picture your kind smile.

You are almost a whole year older now, a big third grader. Even though I mailed you a thank you note for the gift long ago, you have probably forgotten all about it. Perhaps the gifts we give that we hardly notice can turn out to be the most important ones.

Bradley, I just wanted you to know how much you gave in a moment you might not even remember. Funny, it’s just a little gift for which I have no name, but it means all the world to me.

Love,
Mrs. Z