OPEN HOUSE...remember those???

It was the dreaded (I mean, much anticipated) night of Open House for our school tonight. I always hate these, even though it is my 9th one. You think I'd be all excited anytime I get to rave to parents about my class, my procedures, school policies, discipline plan, HW issues, conference time, lunch box forgetfulness, etc....however, it is not on my bucket list. Catch my drift.

But at the end of the night, I do have a better picture of where my kids come from. And you teachers out there all know that the parents you NEED to see are NEVER the ones that show. You NEED the Johnny-mama's to be there, not the parents of the five perfect students that could run the class without your presence.

It is annually reminded to me that not every kid grows up the way I did. I always thought parents were married, had a job, had supper every night and breakfast in the morning, carpooled, and had every material for any projects (from glue to glitter). I knew my parents worked hard for the money we had; we weren't rich, but not poor. Heck, maybe we were poor...but I never knew my brother and I going without. My parents made a point to be at every Open House, every dance recital, every Nutcracker performance and school talent show, every parent-teacher conference, all the time.

Today's students come with so much baggage. Some of the challenges that these poor kids have going on in their lives completely trumps having to complete nightly math problems. And why shouldn't it? It's pretty hard to do your math when the power was turned off and its turned cold in the house. Spelling words have very little to do with the fact that you haven't eaten since lunchtime at school, compliments of the school district. It saddens me that so many of our students come to school to feel the safest, the warmest, and the most loved. Bless these children, for many of them are just in survival mode each and everyday. I never knew that somewhere in my own childhood I had students like this sitting to the left and the right of me. Was I nice to them? Did I try to understand them at all? I hate not being able to remember if I extending them any compassion, or if I simply didn't notice.

With that said, it is my sincerest hope that as a teacher and advocate for today's youth I do take notice. Not only take notice, but take action. Yes, students come with baggage beyond my control, but I can make for certain that those suitcases get left at the door upon entry. Love all, teach all...even good ole' "Johnny".