Last week I had the pleasure of substituting five consecutive days in the same classroom. I was an art teacher at a local K-8th grade academy. Most the kids had difficulty pronouncing my name, so they just called me Ms. C. By the end of the week, my students (especially the younger ones) were calling out my name down the hall and introducing me to their parents as their art teacher. It was adorable and gratifying.
However, the most moving part of my week came on Friday while I was standing in for a sixth grade teacher. Her class was quietly reading when one of the first grade teachers came in to say goodbye to a few of the older students. Three girls immediately rushed to her. From what I gained, it was her last day for reasons unclear. The students kept hugging her and soon they all began to cry, even the toughest girl I dealt with throughout the week. They begged the teacher not go. When that didn’t work, two of the girls stood in front of the exit. The teacher attempted to convince the students to sit back down and apologized repeatedly for the disruption but the students refused to let go. The emotion overcame the teacher and tears welled in her eyes. Then, without warning that toughest girl I told you about sat down on the floor and wrapped her arms around the teacher’s leg. She wasn’t going to let her favorite staff member go without a final fight.
I couldn’t believe what I saw in that room. The love, the tears, the admiration. Soon other students in the class, male and female, came up to the door to hug her one last time. It reminded me of one of my favorite films, The Dead Poets Society. Mr. Keating was an English teacher who challenged his students to think outside the box, to feel poetry – not just hear it, and to follow their dreams and their heart above everything else. He challenged them, he encouraged them and he led them.
This teacher was my real life example of Mr. Keating. She impacted the lives of so many students, even those not in her class. It made me wonder “Am I leaving this kind of impression on the kids I teach?” Would they be sad to see me go? Would they be willing to fight to make me stay? Would they wrap their arms around me?
Then it occurred to me “Am I leaving this kind of impression on everyone I meet?” Do I make you smile? Do I challenge you? Do I inspire you? If I left, would you be sad to see me go? If I left, would you be willing to fight to make me stay? If I left, would you wrap your arms around me?
