My Group of 20

Whelp. We did it. We made it to the end. Tomorrow is the last day of remote learning and I”m not sure if we all passed, but we all did it.

Remember when you came to me last August? When the crayons smelled new and the Clorox containers were still available? I remember when you sat at the tables and decorated your lockers. I noticed that the kindergarten faces I had taught, had lost some of that baby pudge, I noticed that some of your teeth fell out and something else fell in. Was it maturity? Was it confidence? I noticed how I made mistakes and you pretended not to notice. I noticed that some of you could read with ease and some of you needed a lot of help. Those that needed help always found it. Even when I was busy. Faces leaned over and pencils pointed and hands stretched out to assist those on the edge of the cliff. Keep assisting.

I remember telling you on the first day that we can’t share snacks. That snacks are sent in and paid for by Moms and Dads and kids who need snacks need to raise their hands for Mrs. Grant. I pretended not to notice when you slid the rainbow goldfish across the table to the kid fidgeting with his hands, because he couldn’t afford a milk and was waiting for me to disperse the pretzels. Keep sharing.

I noticed when a student melted down at math group, you didn’t say anything. When he threw his pencil, you went and got one of yours out of your pencil box and set it beside his paper, for when he was ready. When he screamed with rage that he hated everyone, you went up to him at recess and said want to play a game with me and his whole body relaxed. You forgave him. Keep forgiving.

I remember how hard three digit subtraction was for us. All of us. And we said that darn poem. We told each other to go next door and some of us went next door the bathroom, just for a reprieve from the regrouping and hard. But then we came back, even me. We tried again and we asked questions and we kept practicing. Keep coming back to the hard.

I can’t forget when we did our stem unit surrounding matter and some of you “accidentally” popped those mystery balloons and the tables got messy. You went into a fit of giggles when it was supposed to be a quiet observing time and your hands went all over the liquid soap, painting the table and your forearms. There was squealing from the mess of it. I ended up just standing off to the side for three or four minutes, just letting the science slop around with you. Keep being messy.

I remember the first time we had an assembly and you sat down in the back row and looked around, surprised at your new found eliteness. The kings and queens of LER. It was your time to shine and show. Your time to be on top. And you were on top. You were on top when you worked with pre-k learning buddies, reading to them and helping them with their fruit loop rainbows. You were on top, when you got to sit out in the hallway and use a chrome book while resting on your belly, and not in the classroom right next to me. You were on top, when we learned about holidays around the world and Mrs. Gruber and Mrs. Malcolm came in with snacks and goodies and we forgot about reading groups for the afternoon. Keep that feeling of being on top, of doing the right thing, of showing others how to do it. It doesn’t go away just because you move to a new school.

My group of 20, I have to thank you for the learning and the laughs, the hard work and the patience. I know google meet is not the same as a reading carpet. I know worksheets are not the same as conferencing during writing workshop. I know face time is not the same as a game of tag and I know saying goodbye this way is not the way it should be. I am proud of the work you did when we were together and whatever you tried to do while we were apart. This world is crazy right now and sometimes you will need a quiet space and a quiet table, just like you did this winter. Go ahead and make that space for yourself when you need it. I will miss you, my group of 20.