Yearbook

I bought a year book at school this year since
I knew it would be my last year. I went through
it tonight and starred the students I had this
year. Well the ones that were there the
second week of school when my 6th graders
still looked like 5th graders and hadn’t gained
those huge grins they’d have later on.

So many beautiful young faces ranging from
very light to very dark with most in the
mid-ranges–a rainbow of tans. Their need
for attention and recognition was overwhelming
at times, especially for an introvert like me.
I love them all, even the ones who made
classroom life difficult. I wish I could follow
every one and see what they do with their lives,
this gift we don’t know how to use until it’s
almost too late.

Some faces weren’t there. They came after the year began. Some stayed the rest of the year, like D. We had a love/not love (hate doesn’t fit here). We drove each other crazy at times. I blamed it on her pre-teen attitude. She decided she hated me. But at the end of the year, she spent all day in my room because of a problem with another teacher on my team. I’ll miss her.

Then there were P & R & N and a dozen others who loved learning. R & N made up projects to do. P was constantly reading. I hope her dad lets her write some this summer. I pray her stomach ulcer goes away. She internalizes so much.

There were some that came and went. Am and Au–twins. Amber has the looks and everything else it takes to get into serious trouble. Aubrey has drive to work hard, but also wants to please which could bring it’s own kind of trouble. They showed up one day. A few months later, they stopped showing up. They lost everything in a fire last summer. I wonder where they are now?

Some came, went and came back again.

I miss them. I’ll miss the ones I don’t get to meet on August 10. But I’m still recovering from the school year. The sheer energy output required is astounding. I hope I don’t start getting older faster now.

Maybe I’ll write more over the summer. 7 years as a substitute teacher and 5 years as a 6th grade teacher in a city has to be worth a few blog posts.

Must blog more

Working writers–as in those being paid to write–are supposed to blog now and facebook and twitter. I’ll try to get intentional about the blog but I doubt many people want to know what I had for lunch–dried out wheat tortilla wrapped around cheese and called a burrito in the school cafeteria. Besides, who has time? “Class, write 500 words while I figure out how to send this tweet on my cell phone. Can my phone even do that? Can somebody help me?”

We’re supposed to build a platform–make mine a diving one on a lake in Maine, please. And an audience. Well, I’ll try. So when you finally finish your novel that you work in around your real life, and you approach a publisher you can say, “I have a built in audience of a kabillion followers of Facebook and Twitter and my blog.

Well. I’ll try. Even though it takes away time from real writing.

I’d write more but I want to get back to my real writing because I have to go back to my real job tomorrow. I hope I can remember what I’d write about if I didn’t want to write.