Wake Up Call

Snow days. Huh. I know, you think that, as a teacher, I am SO LUCKY to get snow days. And I am. But, imagine you’re trying to build a skyscraper with bricks that melt quickly (think-- teach seven-year-old forgetful people) and you get about one-third of the way up, then a day or two off. You rebuild, it melts. Rebuild. Melt. Repeat. Annoying. We get started writing a unit and then they completely forget about what a transitional word is or remembering to check their ‘dictionaries’ for the book spelling of words or what they were even writing about. So, as much as I do love the occasional 5:00am call saying, “Go back to bed,” I’m not a HUGE fan of snow days.

I’m especially not a fan of snow days when it’s close to report card time. Okay, so it really has nothing to do with the snow day part and more to do with the report card part. I teach reading and writing, which means I have to grade 52 kids’ writing with a 10-grade rubric and put it into my computer. And I can’t do it until the end of the marking period, because it’s their “project” they work on through the marking period. It’s exhausting.

So, recently, we had a snow day and, luckily, I had ALL THESE PAPERS to grade. As I was trudging through the stories about going to Avalanche Bay and going to a friend’s house, I started thinking I should have picked a different job. I seriously should have picked a different job. Like driving a truck. Or taking photos at the DMV. I’m not saying either of those jobs are EASIER, they just don’t involve reading 52 kids’ stories.

As I was mumbling under my breath about how this is stupid and kids should just be allowed to learn to WRITE and not have to show growth or be graded and when are they going to use these ridiculous skills in their real life later anyway and they’re only 7 and 8 years old and should be taught to write about what they care about and who stops their writing to make sure they’re using strong verbs… I saw it. There, on the side of the paper, in a little cloud bubble, was a love note. “Mrs. Hall you are an awesome teacher. I love you so much.”

The girl’s cherubic face, adorable dimples and bright blue eyes popped into my head and I thought about all the times she’d laughed when I’d said stupid jokes, or hung on the edge of her seat as I read The Littles, or threaded her mittened hand through mine as we stomped through the snow at recess. She loved ME? I should be writing on HER paper that she was an awesome kid!

So, I did. I wrote that she was an awesome kid and I loved her, too. And then I whistled my way through the rest of my papers. Sometimes I need a snow day to remind me this is the perfect job for me.