Back when I was teaching, and my students dashed out the second the bell rang, I would close my classroom door.
Take a breath.
And turn on my music.
I would sit next to the window, and try to forget the rapid beating of my heart.
I would try to ignore the anger in my veins at the strange adults who had “visited” and judged us all without even saying hello.
And as the chords worked their magic, I remembered just why, in fact, I was there.
For the smile on her face.
For the laughter and the silliness and the forgiveness in their eyes.
To provide even the smallest space of belonging, of family, of hope.
So I’d wash the board and try again.
. . .
SnapDragon is an educator, artist, writer, and caller of bullshit.
Follow her Two-Bit Musings and more on Snippets of SnapDragon.
Leave a Reply