Perfect Timing

[Editor’s note: No-sleep-till-Brooklyn is the pseudonym for a second-year kindergarten teacher in Brooklyn.]

There I was this morning, preparing for yet another day of correcting behavior, praising children for breathing (sheesh), and using the very last ounce of patience I had for the week (shout out to Rosh Hashanah for a shortened week). Energy drained, exuberance gone . . . how did kindergarten get so old?

Just last week I had tears of joy, friends, tears of joy streaming down my face as I watched my children care for one another, walk like real human beings down to lunch, and tsk-tsk older students for running down the hallway.

But even so, the utter amazement has worn off. Even though I remind my students 100 times to please raise a hand before speaking, one child continues to interrupt. Even though I politely request that we walk in the classroom, one child decides to run. And even when I gently teach that our finger puppet birds are not to be cooked, I pass the kitchen and see my poor bluebird stewing with carrots.

They are five, they are crazy-wonderful and they will probably still need these reminders when they are 50. All this to say, this morning I was in a funk. That is, UNTIL someone came to my rescue – which is why I believe in perfect timing.  My good teacher friend and I were talking casually when quite suddenly I realized our casual conversation had turned into life advice.

He challenged me to create a personal goal for myself during each school year, something to distinguish this year from last, wanting to achieve and being proud of my achievements. In his matter-of-fact way he told me, “The board of education will tell you, No don’t teach that way, teach this way. Our curriculum tells you to teach this way and not that way. The board of education will steal your soul if you let it.” Conversation ended, we parted ways, but my mood had lifted.

Personal goals for my professional life? I didn’t have the time to ponder such an idea last year amid the children tearing up my room and chewing pages out of my books. This year, since I’m teaching children instead of wild beasts, I will certainly take that wise advice. Change little things here and there, create some goals that will benefit me and in turn, benefit those sweet little angels who are currently making me want to pull my hair out by asking 100 questions daily.

Oh jeez.  Here we go again.