Looking Out

Looking Out

Originally written May 27, 2015

Lightly edited for clarity in August 2026.

Just hours ago, my students left. They are on their way to summer adventures, family time, and friends. Just as quickly as they walked into my life, they walked out again. Yet each of them will always be a part of my life.

When a school year begins, my new students are just that—students. They arrive as a group, and at first there is little that distinguishes them beyond their physical appearance. They are quiet, reserved, and and still unknown to me. During those first few days, I snap a picture of each one, not yet knowing who they really are. I work to learn their names and match each one to a classroom number. I try to figure out who knows whom from the neighborhood. I share pieces of my own life, hoping they'll eventually share theirs.

Time meanders on. Slowly, they begin to let their light shine. Slowly, they begin to share what's important to them. Slowly, I'm afforded the opportunity to really see who they are. Gradually, I begin to understand what makes each child tick and, often, how they see themselves. That's when the real student-teacher relationships begin to form.

Teaching is a delicate dance—discovering how a class learns best while also figuring out how each child fits into that larger picture. Leaders emerge. Followers find their place. Independent thinkers respectfully exercise their independence. Each child plays a role in the little society taking shape inside Room 211.

Then comes humor.

The single most powerful tool a teacher can employ is humor because it resonates with children. They love to laugh. They love discovering the silly side of things. They love the camaraderie that's created when everyone shares a genuine laugh together. The best humor is never planned. One of my favorite moments each year is that first time we all laugh out loud together. From that point on, something changes. It helps shape everything that follows.

Then comes understanding.

As much as children long to be accepted, each one finds acceptance in a different way. Teachers do, too. Together we weave through lessons, specials, PE, and the quieter moments in between, all doing our best to get it right. It isn't always easy, but once understanding begins to grow, the road becomes less rocky and much more of an adventure.

This year's class taught me how they learned best: through projects, technology, and learning stations that allowed for both educational and social interaction. They shared a wonderful collective sense of humor and, just as importantly, unique individual personalities that made me smile every day.

Most of all, they showed me something far more important than any lesson I could have planned. They showed me a classroom where students genuinely cared about one another. They celebrated each other's successes, offered support when it was needed, and quietly looked out for one another.

As a teacher, I couldn't have asked for more.

I'm fortunate to be able to say that I work with children.

I'm fortunate to be able to say that I worked at Lincoln School in Elmhurst.

I'm fortunate to be able to say that I taught fourth graders.

I am an incredibly fortunate person to be able to say I worked with your kids.