October is Teacher/Parent conference month at my school.
I love meeting with parents.
One conference started out this way -
“Your child knows everything about Louis Armstrong. How does he know so much about him?”
Another like this -
“I love you child’s sense of humor. Yesterday he asked, ‘Mr. Barton, how do you throw an intergalactic party?”
“I have no idea,” I answered.
“You ‘plan it,’ he laughed. “Do you get it? Plan it...planet. Ha!”
And another like this -
“You have one of the kindest children in the world. He’s always ready to help me and all the students around him. He’s doing such a wonderful job with his academic work and his behavior, I chose him as the Terrific Kid for our classroom this nine weeks.”
My terrific kid’s mamí began to cry. She is from Peru and has only been in the country for a year. Big tears welled up in her deep, brown eyes and rolled down her cheeks and splashed on our conference papers.
They were tears of joy.
Those are the best kind of tears.
Teaching is humble work.
My heart is lifted up as if it is attached to the basket of a hot air balloon when I remember I am a small part of the love and care families show to their children.
I am the colors of the balloon.
I am the thatch woven together to make the basket.
I am the balloon itself that lifts up the children and helps them become all they can become.
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