As I read a letter from one my students’ parents at the end of the school year, I want to hear several things, mostly about how I was the best teacher in the universe and how I have, through one child, changed the world. Realistically, what I will read is probably more on par with “Thanks for the great year! Johnny really liked your class and I know he learned a lot.” I may know, as a matter of fact, that Johnny hated my class and is happy to no longer have strict Mr. Williams in his life. But what I would love to hear, words I would truly and honestly cherish, involve a genuine and heartfelt thank you for having cared, tried, and strived to pull greatness from children who had long ago been tagged as devoid of any potential. I want to be the person who drills for oil in a field long since abandoned, convinced untapped reserves of potential lie just beneath the surface, waiting to be reached. Whereas I am not foolish enough to believe that every student will like me or love the fact that I expect a lot out of him or her, I do believe the most loving thing I can offer any of my students is a high expectation: belief in his or her potential, seeing the ability to attain significant results, and I can thereby better the future of each individual student.
That, my friends, is what I want to hear.
4 comments:
haha! i'm planning a blog post with that letter too!
Dude, this is hilarious.. And, yet completely true; your standards are just.
God is always kind to remind us of His given grace to serve with humble service... especially, in cases like yours, when gone unrecognized by man.
Well done, on this year. I'm reading a book on humility... [is this vanity to admit? perhaps.] And it is studying the passage Mark 10:43-45, on Jesus' service. This is of which a commentator William Lane, states that Jesus is referring to, "the reversal of all human ideas of greatness and rank."
While you are offering your students high expectations to the glory of God, and without notice, you are reversing human ideas.
That, my friend, is greatness.
"frzijea"
(what letters are YOU supposed to type?)
James-
from your old Aunt Bronwyn, veteran mother of a kid in Special Ed, veteran Special ed teacher and administrator, veteran teacher of special ed teachers: You've got it, kiddo, and you deliver it. And one day soon (about 3 years from now) you'll notice that you don't even care who acknowledges it; you know, and God knows, you're delivering. Love you; you are priceless!
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