Teachers

I want to say, in advance, that I feel sorry for you.  And, the "you" I mean is anyone who doesn't have a kid in Eva's second grade class.  Well, really anyone who hasn't had a kid in any of Eva's classes since Kindergarten.

I had some good teachers when I was growing up.  I even had two AMAZING teachers.  One was my math teacher in 7th grade...she believed in me in a way no one had before.  The other was my creative writing teacher when I was a senior in high school.  She changed my life in more ways than almost anyone else ever has.  There were some bad teachers also, of course... the ones who were obviously there because the position of "Troll under bridge" was already taken.  But, now that I'm grown, I can see that they were already living their punishment for being bad teachers... they were teachers.

Now, as a mother, I am what one would affectionately call a "helicopter mom".  I don't like to let anyone borrow my car, so I certainly didn't relish the idea of sharing my kid with a complete stranger seven hours a day, seven days a week, eight months a year.  Unfortunately, the idea of keeping my child at home twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, twelve months a year, for eighteen years didn't appeal to me either. 

Wait...and you want me to teach them too?!  Look, I can teach them to brush their teeth and chew with their mouths closed, but geometry and the theory of relativity is better left to the professionals!

So, I reluctantly sent them off to school at the first moment I was legally required to do so.  And, for the most part, it has been a major blessing.  (For them as well as for me.)  My girls have been shared with some amazing women who have cared for them almost as well as I do.  As a matter of fact, with the exception of Sofia's 2nd and 3rd grade (when she was bullied and left unprotected by her teachers), ALL of their teachers have been really good.

However, Eva has been truly blessed.  In Kindergarten she was taught by a woman who could be a professional grandma.  Truly, she could rent herself out as the doting old lady who smells like cookies.  She is that special.  We loved her.  Then, in first grade, when Eva's issues started to really present themselves, she was placed in a class with a woman who spent the extra moment Eva needed to feel settled.  She was patient and kind with a kid who needed to feel a little extra love in her day.  And, it certainly helped me when I spent all day worrying about whether or not Eva would ever feel safe anywhere.

But, this year, Eva (and her mama) hit the jackpot.  Eva's second grade teacher is an angel.  I want to rummage in her desk drawers just to see which one she hides her halo in.  This teacher believes in Eva, and Eva knows it.  This teacher puts up with Eva's mama, and Eva's mama is so grateful.  This teacher makes Eva feel safe, cared for, believed in, strong, beautiful & smart.  In other words, this teacher sees Eva for all that she really is.  I don't have to worry about Eva being ignored or left out in this class.  As a kid who used to make not a single sound in school, I was most worried that she would be overlooked because she was so "easy".  In a class with too many kids, I was concerned that the unruly kids would get all of the attention.  I don't have to spend all day thinking about whether she is shaking in nervousness or cringing in fear.  I can drop her off in the morning and feel nothing but relief that she is heading into a room with a woman who cares for my girl almost like one of her own kids.  Words cannot express what that means to me.

I went to Sofia & Eva's parent-teacher conferences yesterday.  Sofia's teacher likes her a lot.  She says Sofia is a good student, and the report card supports that sentiment.  I never worried about teachers liking Sofia, she is a ready-made teachers pet.  However, my meeting with Eva's teacher was the highlight of my day.  I am able to talk to her about things that I don't feel comfortable telling anyone else.  I don't worry that she'll hold that information against Eva in any way.  I know that, whatever I tell her, Eva's teacher will love her all the same.  She sees things in my girl that I never thought anyone else would.  She can read Eva's eyes, and I am so thankful for it.

So, for anyone who doesn't have teachers who see your kid's soul:  I feel so badly for you.  It makes all the difference.  Especially to a helicopter mama who could easily make a teacher's life unpleasant for making one of her kids feel "less than".  And, from the bottom of my cold heart, I thank all teachers that make the special kids feel a little more special.  The mothers of those kids couldn't be more grateful that you found a drawer to hide your halo in.