This post is part of Ruth Ayres Celebrate Link up. Thanks, Ruth for this great opportunity to celebrate!

“God bless you.”

“I could never do that!”

“What are they? 11? 12? Thank you.”

Just a snapshot of some things I usually hear when I tell someone I teach 6th grade. Truth is, I love 6th graders – They are the best, they are awesome!  (Full Disclosure: I also said similar things about my 2nd graders way back when.)

So last week, when I sat my classes down to tell them that I was leaving to fill in as an Instructional Coach for the rest of the year, I was curious about what their reactions would be. Sad? Angry? Elated?

Shock. They were just so shocked. Calm, and cool, like 6th graders can sometimes be. (It’s true. They can be. They are.) They looked at me with what can only be described as astonished betrayal.

“I’ll still see you.” I told them. “I’ll be helping your new teacher. I’ll be helping you. We will still be connected.”

“How about you help our new teacher by teaching us once a week?” They challenged.

I tried to articulate to them that their new teacher would be with them longer than I have. That when they look back on their 6th grade year, the new teacher is whom they will really think of. This was hard to say aloud, because I love being these kids’ teacher. But, I said it. Several students looked at me thoughtfully, some I’m sure wanted me to stop being so dramatic so they could go back to their own thoughts, and a couple just shook their heads, “Not going to happen. You are our teacher.” 

Hands up for questions and comments.  This is where we come to the celebration.

“I’m just worried about one thing. Are we going to have as much read-to-self time with the new teacher?” 

“Wait. Are you going to take all of the books?”

“I’m not angry, I’m happy for you. I’m just going to miss you.”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.” 

“I hope you remember me. I will remember you.” 

Later that day I sent an email to my students’ families, and it took a strong will not to call off the change! What kind words I got in return. Congratulations for sure, but lovely appreciation messages and “we will miss you” notes that made me feel so good, and also so guilty.

Listen. As a teacher I almost never know what if any impact I am having. I certainly don’t measure it by test scores. If I measure it at all, I measure my impact by fleeting moments; teachable and emotional. I measure it by glances that I can’t seem to articulate in writing — in inside jokes that hint at lightbulbs going off. I measure it in cooperation and laughter, relationships and community. The past week of transition, shadowing the current coach, teaching my amazing students, and getting ready to leave the classroom in January has been full of reflection and celebration.

Leaving the classroom is hard. I pre-miss it already. And, I’m so excited to try out this new role – I am going to learn so much – and I can’t wait to start to figure it all out… and celebrate along the way with all of the teachers and students I am lucky enough to be working with.

I’m participating in Ruth Ayres Celebrate This Week. Check out the link up here.

Today, I’m celebrating that learning is hard, and messy…even when it looks fun and fluffy.

Every year, I almost cancel my puppet project before it even starts. I think about the planning: finding research times, writing times, prep times, sewing times, practicing times, show times… So. Much. Time. I think about finding enough parent volunteers, begging for supplies, trips to the fabric shop, and how much fleece I’m going to have to cut and count just to get it ready for the kids. I think about how hard it is to get everyone started on that first day of sewing. I think about how students will look at me like I have 2 heads when I show them how to thread their needle and how to whip stitch. But, In the back of my mind, I do remember why I do the project.

I see flashes of students gathered in “sewing circles.”

I see students faces beam with pride as they right-side-out their puppet’s face for the first time and say, “Look! It’s a real puppet!”

I see students putting their information into creative, entertaining scripts and rehearsing for their puppet show.

I see families coming to watch the show, wondering what all the fuss is about, and families leaving with smiles and pride. 

I see emails I’ve received from parents telling me, “Thank you for all you do to teach them in creative ways…my child learned so much, benefitted so much….The newspaper should do a story on this project… ” Those emails are wonderful reminders of how a project can mean something to a student.

My Instructional Coach said something at a meeting the other day – it was a lightbulb moment for me. We were talking about curriculum, responsive teaching, relationships and knowing our students. We were talking about inquiry and literacy and my Instructional Coach said, “Content is one of the ways we can get to know our students.”

Content? I think I’ve always had content and relationships separate in my brain. I teach students…and what I teach them is content. But my coach is right (as usual – don’t tell her I said so…) and I felt the lightbulb turn on. I have been reflecting on this throughout the week, especially as it relates to my Greek research project that culminates in a big puppet show.

This content, along with the process, and the product for that matter, really helps me get to know my students. Often, I see a different side of them. It isn’t just the contagious engagement level: Many students who are used to experiencing failure are often successful; Some students who are used to experiencing only success often hit some roadblocks along the way. I love to watch their mindsets as they work hard to be persistent. It takes rigor to pull out a whole row of stitches and start over. As students take their information and turn it into creative scripts, they are working hard and having fun.

Sometimes I feel defensive when people ask me about this project. It takes a long time, and a lot of effort by students, teachers, and parents. At first glance, people may think it is “fluff.” Sometimes students are worried about the project challenges and tell me “I’m not crafty.” I’ve had parents tell me that when they first looked at my information about it, they rolled their eyes. Even after the first day of sewing, it still looks “messy.” (And I don’t just mean the piles of embroidery floss and small bits of fleece!) Some kids are left with so much sewing to do after that first work time that people don’t believe it’s ever going to work. I still get nervous after that first day.

But then — it works. The kids are amazing. The parents volunteers are amazing. The puppets are amazing. The scripts are informative and fun. At some point after the project has been put away, I know I will stop finding fleece bits on my clothes.

So, when it was once again time to start planning the research and sewing calendar, I took a deep breath.  I sat down to really write out the purpose of this project. I wanted it to be more than an awesome feeling. My list of “Knows” and “Dos” and “Understands” filled up a page and a half of a google doc.

Let me tell you the truth. I actually like “fluff.”  I think “fluff” has its place in our classrooms, because our classrooms are full of children. But, here’s another truth. This project – the one where my kids research and plan, symbolize and represent, write and revise, rehearse and preform? This project is not “fluff.”

After this project, students will know more about ancient Greece, research, script writing and presentation. They will have gathered, evaluated and organized information. They will have symbolized with representations. They will know how to whipstitch, and how to hot glue. They will have performed in front of an audience! My goal is that they will understand that creative expression can be hard work, and that creativity is not the opposite of learning.