This week, Jack* told me, “I’m writing a book.”
Every year, at least one student becomes a writer of books. Independently.
“Can I show you?” he asks. I’d love to sit and read or listen to his story, but 31 other students are distracting me. The day’s work is distracting me. So I tell him, “Yes, I want to see it…but not now. Remind me later.”
The day goes on. As I confer with another student, he slips his notebook under my papers. Looks at me and whispers, “when you get a chance.” I smile at him and go back to my small group.
The day continues. Papers pile up. Lessons, conferences. The notebook is underneath everything.
Before I know it, the bell to go home rings. And there is John*. “Did you read it?”
I feel terrible. No.
“It’s ok. Let-me-read-it-to-you now!”
He finishes chapter five and tells me his plans for the rest of the book. But there is a problem he tells me. “I need a writing group.” Before I have a chance to think, he adds, “What if we have a writing club at recess?” He is on fire. I couldn’t have possibly planned such a great idea.
This week I celebrate the inspiration of students that seems to come out when and where you least expect it.
Jack’s running in his own direction. Which isn’t always where the class happens to be. That is his and my challenge to reconcile. We live in a community with lots of individual flames. Expecting them to all be on at the same intensity at the same time is not likely. Some can adjust to the group, others like Jack, can’t always. He might be talking when he shouldn’t be. Reading when he should be writing. Writing when he should be reading. But always excited about what he is doing.
This week I celebrate my students who find what they’re passionate about and persist in the adventure.
This week I was asked where I saw myself in five years.
Without hesitation, I answered.
Teaching.
Teaching kids or figuring out how to teach kids.
Confirming this, saying it out loud, lifted me up.
There’s no doubt.
I’m doing exactly what I want to do now and in the future.
Knowing this is a reason to celebrate.
This week the rain stopped. Leaving behind needed water and snow.
This week I celebrate midday warmth, blue skies, running and playing outside, and all that is going on inside.
Find other celebrations at Ruth Ayers Writes.
To Read To Write To Be 