I come to you today with a heavy heart.
After performing their last scenes and playing their last theatre game the students are gone.
And I, my room stripped bare, am gone too.
In a small act of hopeful defiance, I left one thing in Room 116, the first classroom I could call my own.
Hanging on the hallway wall, just outside of my classroom, is a room sign, welcoming one and all to Ms. Mathews' Theatre Arts class. With any luck (and lots of shameless plugging on my part) that sign will have a purpose next year.
It's funny, because when I first started at the Irving my room sign did not hold up too well to the students' abuse. Neither did I. I was an inexperienced teacher and had much to learn. By the end of the year that sign had a few choices words on it letting me know exactly what they thought of me. This year, my room sign looks almost like it did in September when I hung it. I'm a 4th year teacher now, and everything has changed. Unlike my room sign, the words of my students linger inside of me, reminding me exactly what I mean to them. It makes me so proud to know the teacher I've become and I feel so lucky for the students I've had that make me a better PERSON.
This is a sad day, and while there's hope on the horizon, I am going to wait a few days before I share the details of that hope. I'm like a movie sequel: just when you think they've killed off the main character, she manages to resurrect herself bigger and better than ever before!
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I'm just finding your blog and really enjoying it. I remember my first year teaching and students had CARVED "choice words" about me into my classroom door. As I stood there looking at it with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach my colleague congratulated me...He said, "Good for you-now you've gotten their attention."
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