Teachers.
From preschool to college.
Public to private.
Special education to English as a Second Language.
School media specialists to PE coaches.
Teachers.
The future builders.
The ones who read books aloud in funny character voices.
The ones who come in early to tutor a student.
The ones who stay late to coach Science Olympiad or the debate team.
The ones who attend conferences with their own funds.
The ones who write notes back in student journals.
The ones who pay attention to the individual needs of kids, despite burgeoning class sizes.
The ones who purchase extra snacks so that no child is hungry.
The ones who look beyond a student’s angry, hardened shell and see a hurting child.
The ones who spend their lunches with kids needing extra care.
The ones who believe in their students, even the ones who don’t believe in themselves.
The ones who translate words into Spanish to communicate with parents.
The ones who make math into a game.
The ones who sip Saturday AM coffee while grading essays.
The ones who pursue advanced degrees.
The ones who know when to push and when to pull back.
The ones who dress up like Sacajawea or Martin Luther King, Jr.
The ones who greet students with a smile every morning as they stream in.
The ones who can still see August’s sharpened pencils and empty desks and feel hopeful.
Revolving administrations, DOE pendulum swings, ever changing curriculums, low salaries, angry blue party voters, angry red party voters, testing, budgets, avalanches of paperwork, inaugurations of presidents.
They hear the opinions.The ones who come in early to tutor a student.
The ones who stay late to coach Science Olympiad or the debate team.
The ones who attend conferences with their own funds.
The ones who write notes back in student journals.
The ones who pay attention to the individual needs of kids, despite burgeoning class sizes.
The ones who purchase extra snacks so that no child is hungry.
The ones who look beyond a student’s angry, hardened shell and see a hurting child.
The ones who spend their lunches with kids needing extra care.
The ones who believe in their students, even the ones who don’t believe in themselves.
The ones who translate words into Spanish to communicate with parents.
The ones who make math into a game.
The ones who sip Saturday AM coffee while grading essays.
The ones who pursue advanced degrees.
The ones who know when to push and when to pull back.
The ones who dress up like Sacajawea or Martin Luther King, Jr.
The ones who greet students with a smile every morning as they stream in.
The ones who can still see August’s sharpened pencils and empty desks and feel hopeful.
Revolving administrations, DOE pendulum swings, ever changing curriculums, low salaries, angry blue party voters, angry red party voters, testing, budgets, avalanches of paperwork, inaugurations of presidents.
“Schools are getting worse.”
“Education is a mess.”
No matter. Teachers are over-comers. Though the world spins madly around them, to
them it’s about learning and loving on kids.
I am so grateful. 
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