To begin with...

I Didn't Know

I didn't know that years of school and projects
would be of little consolation
when facing a room full of bright little eyes
on the first day of school.
I thought I was ready...

I didn't know that five minutes can seem like five hours
when there is idle time, and a school day far too short
for a well-planned day of teaching.

I didn't know that teaching children was only a fraction of my job.
No one tells you about the conferences and phone calls,
meetings and committees, paperwork and paperwork...

I didn't know that it took so long to cut out letters,
draw and color pictures and laminate,
all for those bulletin boards that were always "just there"...

I didn't know that I would become such a scavenger,
and that teaching materials would feel like pure gold in my hands...

I didn't know that an administration and co-workers
that support and help you could make such a difference...

I didn't know that there would be children
that I loved and cared for and stayed up late worrying about,
who, one day, would simply not show up.
And that I would never see them again...

I didn't know that I can't always
dry little tears and mend broken hearts.
I thought I could always make a difference…

I didn't know that the sound of children's laughter
could drown out the sound of all the world's sadness…

I didn't know that children could feel so profoundly.
A broken heart knows no age.

I didn't know that a single "Yes Miss/Mrs"
from a disrespectful child or a note in my desk
that says "You're the best!" could make me feel
like I'm on top of a mountain and
forget the valleys I forged to get there...

I never knew that after one year of teaching
I would feel so much wiser, more tired,
sadder and happier, all at once.

And that I would no longer call teaching my job,
but my privilege.

- Anonymous