For Tamara

(The best teachers scrounge up snowpants for all their students and spend the day outside when there is a blizzard and school isn’t canceled.)

My teaching partner is taking a break from teaching to raise her kiddos, this is for her.

For Tamara

Five years ago when my school posted an opening for a new kindergarten teacher my first thought was “Please God, send me someone I can be friends with.” A moment later after reflecting on my selfishness, I offered up this addendum, “Please God, send me someone who will help me become a better teacher.” I never in my wildest dreams thought I would get both.

Becoming friends was fast and easy. When Tamara and I first started working together we were very polite with each other for about three days. Then one of us cursed as we were setting up our rooms, we bonded at that exact moment. Our first two years were spent teaching in tiny (12X20) former storage closet classrooms that adjoined in the basement. We survived a flood when a pipe burst and her room was completely destroyed. We fought a constant battle with drain flies that would buzz in from the bathroom. In recent years we have moved upstairs to full sized classrooms. During our years together in addition to all the day to day teaching we have managed to have endless dance parties, fallen in love with Koo Koo Kanga Roo, raised funds for our students to have Christmas presents every year, hosted family movie nights, had Thanksgiving dinners, created a pumpkin patch outside, and celebrated the end of the year with a glow party.

Teaching can be lonely and is frequently done in solitude, but with Tamara I never feel alone. Our methods and ideas are different but we have developed respect for the each other's process and preferences.  

Working with Tamara is like being in a successful improv scene we are constantly supporting each other, pushing the scene forward, and there are a lot of times when we say “yes, and.” We are opposites in many ways, but our differences make us a great team. She prefers to clean up blood while I prefer to clean up vomit, she is “let’s make this magical” while I am “let’s make this orderly” She is the Amy Poehler to my Tina Fey. She can stay calm when I am freaking out and I hope I do the same for her.  

We have bonded over our being extroverts with introverted tendencies, being the oldest child in our families, reflecting on society's expectations of teachers/women/mothers, and our love of language. We have solved the world's problems over lunch. I will miss working with her, but more selfishly I will miss talking about life and big issues in motherhood, faith, and our relationships with our families and students. I will miss laughing so hard I cry. I will miss catching her eye while our students sing at our holiday and spring concerts and exchanging a tearful look of pride. I will expecially miss exchanging that special look of “IS THIS REAL LIFE?” as we pass each other in the hallway or sit in facility meetings. I am the luckiest because I got to work with her, I got to create miracles with her. I’ve never had a sister, and I don’t want to minimize the relationship of family, but with Tamara I feel I have one.

She is generous, she is real, and she loves surprising people with the perfect gift. The thing I admire about Tamara is she is the most welcoming and inclusive person I’ve ever known, she has never met a stranger. I have witnessed her speaking with parents, students, administrators, superstore employees, etc. She speaks to everyone as if she has known them for years. Her openness and willingness to give of herself is admirable. She has the skill to make you feel like you are the most important person in the world, she does this daily for her students. It is her legacy and I will strive to uphold it.   

(Dressed up as Koo Koo Kanga Roo for Fall Harvest)

I love you Tamara and I will miss you! Although, I will NOT miss watching you dip your banana in  yogurt, because that is foul and no one should ever eat a banana dipped in yogurt.

See My Owie, See Me

Each morning I greet my students and listen to an onslaught of information like “I have a new shirt.” “It’s my birds birthday!.” “I love you, I missed you Ms. Savage.” “I went to the dentist.” “See my Ninja Turtle watch!” etc. Since it’s spring, my students have been spending more time outside. This means after I hear their news each morning I get the owie report.

“Look at my owie.”

“I got a new owie.”

“Look, bloods.”

“I got this from...I no know in English, its hot for cook outside.” “The grill?” I offer, “for cooking hotdogs and hamburgers?” “Yes, grill.”

Most the time time the interaction goes like this:

Student: See my owie! See it!

Me: I see that owie.

Usually that’s all that needs to be said.

Sometimes it goes something like this:

Student: I have an owie.

Me: I see it.

Student: Blood comes out.

Me: Oh, I see. Blood came out when you got it, now it looks like the blood has stopped. Is it getting better?

Student:Yep

Me: I’m glad to know it’s getting better

Here is the thing, most kids just want their owies seen and acknowledged. They want me to know that something is wrong, they don't feel like themselves. Something is out of balance and that something needs attention, its a form of self-reflection. Sharing an owie builds empathy too, the mention of one owie always leads to almost everyone in class saying "Me too!" Everyone gets an owie from time to time, its part of the human experience. A student almost always chimes in with, "I used to have an owie but now its better." Healing is part of the process too.

Sometimes a child bumps into a peer and they say all the right things:

“Are you ok?”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

“Sorry.”

Then they are upset that their friend doesn’t immediately stop crying or feeling upset. In these situations students come to me, giving me reports of “X is hurt. I said sorry and asked if they are ok but they are still crying.” So I go and check on the child and tell the reporter, “sometimes it still hurts, even after you say sorry, sometimes it takes a few minutes to feel better.” Sometimes you need to just sit with the pain and the sadness and wait for it to pass.

Is this not the way for adults too?

See my owie, see me.