... and then it was Monday.

School has started. This year is a mile stone for me: my tenth year teaching. It's a bit surreal to be honest. When did I become one of those veteran teachers who's supposed to know everything? How did I acquire tales-from-the-trenches stories to share? Really ... I am perplexed.
Ten years ago we started school for the first time after 9-11. Our crisis drills had new elements like "we found anthrax in the building" and "a terrorist attack has occurred in this city." Really, it was enough to give me nightmares ... and I was a grown-up! There were other scary moments, like the time the police escorted a student to his locker right next to my room where they pulled out a huge knife he had brought. (I should note here that we had metal detectors, so how the heck did that get in there??) There were the tornado threats where, again, I had to be the calm, cool grown up. There were even a few students who got so angry with me that I thought if any kid is going to stalk me and stab me in my driveway later, it's gonna be this kid.

But amidst all the crazy is the awesome.

There are the whispers of "I love this class" when the students don't know you are listening. There are the talent shows and where you get to see your students do amazing things you didn't know they could do. There are concerts to be proud of, sporting events to cheer at, and awards ceremonies to recognize the amazing kids. There are the cliche moments when a student "gets" something, and the moments when a high-five is not only warranted, but enthusiastically given.

My greatest memory, though, isn't a moment. It is a girl ... we'll call her Lucy. Lucy was in my class my first year at my current school. Additionally, she was my student aide. She worked her tail off for me, both academically in my class and tediously as my aide. To say that Lucy and I spent a lot of time together would be an understatement. We bonded, and at the end of the year, for the first time ever, I cried when a student left me and moved on. Every year she would come and see me to tell me how she was doing, and it was always really well. When she graduated I cried, and when I found out that she was getting married, I cried again. I love this girl ... she is beautiful, smart, and a super hard worker. She will always be special, and I hope that one day I can teach her children, too.

Teaching is hard, but there are the moments that make it all worth it. The scary, the sad ... those things are fuzzy years later, but the moments that made my day are still crystal clear, even ten years later.