Missing the Past

Today, just before lunch, I had a field trip of second and third graders here at the Heritage Discovery Center. And I really enjoyed talking with them about immigration before they took their tour of our exhibit America: Through Immigrant Eyes.

I work with student groups on a very random schedule. Sometimes I'll have a few in one week. Other times, I go months without seeing any. It depends on what our tour schedule looks like.

Right now, if someone offered me a third grade classroom, I would go back to teaching in a heartbeat. The kids today were bright, they were engaged, and they were eager to learn. Everything that I loved about teaching. And I loved seeing the look of pride on one of their faces when they answered a question correctly and were praised for it.

Some days, I don't know that I made the right choice in leaving my classroom. There are days when I think that dealing with kids is so much easier than dealing with adults. Even dealing with teenagers in high school was fun. I always knew what was walking through my door in the mornings.

I miss building a relationship over the course of a year or over several years. I miss knowing their stories and seeing them change and grow. When I was teaching, I had so many "kids" that I considered my own. I loved seeing them out and about in the town. Some days, this office is smothering and isolating. Even a bad day in a classroom is still an experience.

I was loured away by the promise of opening a children's museum. And I do love my job here. I love the fact that I'm more connected to the community. I know what is happening about the town. I've met some wonderful (and some not-so-wonderful) people. I've made some fantastic friends that I never would have made otherwise. I've done things that I never could have accomplished in a classroom.

Some days, I think I'll never return to a classroom. Other days, I wish I had never left. Most days, I don't know what the future holds for me. All I know is that today, I miss my classroom.