Last weekend I chiseled tiny specks of white paint off the windows in our cabin shed. Having recently mastered (or survived) our first attempt at using an electric paint sprayer on the small interior walls, fine sprays of white splatter somehow evaded our protective newspaper and clung to the glass in clusters.
Every time I felt confident about the interior side of the glass, I went outside to find several glaring spots of paint that I had missed. I continued in and out of the shed for about an hour before I acquiesced and declared it “good enough”.
I’ve thought a lot about those windows this past week. Not that I’m bothered by the fact that they weren’t perfect, but more about how important perspective is in all we do.
I’ve shared with many of you that after close to two decades in a classroom teacher role, I’ve started a new position for this school year. And not just new to me, but a new position in the district itself. As a “Student Advocate” I’m trying to support all students and teachers- in whatever is needed, but particularly with behaviors.
Yet one thing the first few days on the job has taught me is that the school looks entirely different when you look at it as a whole. Admittedly, I teared up a few times this week; not in sadness or frustration but in appreciation of my fellow teachers. The Kindergarten teacher who has to start with ‘basic German Shepard’ and teach them how to walk, where to put things and how to essentially do school. (They DO NOT get paid enough. When teachers get raises, Kindergarten teachers are first in line. End of story.)
I saw patience and kindness at every turn. Classroom teachers are coordinating a small business and they do so with flawless love. Having spent the first part of my career holed up in my own small business of a classroom, I wasn’t given the gift of seeing my fellow coworkers in action- and it’s a work of beauty.
Seeing this whole school perspective has above all showed me the power of the village. Scooping up the hand of the one who forgot how to get back to the room after the bathroom, coworkers willing to share supplies and cover when someone hasn’t had a break yet. Tending to the gentle hearts that are new to the school, the city, the state… or those for whom transitions are plain hard.
Just as I hung up my paint scraping chisel last weekend, I am reminded that while schools will never be perfect, from my perspective most are much, much more than just ‘good enough’.
Teaching the Good Stuff 