The end of the year is always bittersweet. While you are more than ready for a break, it’s hard to watch these kids you’ve invested so much time and emotion in move on to middle school. It’s even harder when you’ve spent two years with the same students. This is my letter to them.
I can’t believe the year is already coming to an end. We’ve spent two years together, and it’s been a wonderful journey. There are so may memories that I will cherish from our time together. Here are just a few.
Remember the fun we had learning about geometry as you designed and built your Geometry City? You persevered through many trials and errors as you tested and perfected your marble run. We tried to build a mini golf course, but ran out of time. But what we did finish was an amazing display of math and creativity.
What about our two friends who came to this country last year not speaking any English and have become not only fluent, but leaders as well. I feel so privileged to have been able to see your true personalities emerge, and that I would not have traded for anything. You’ve made me proud to be a teacher.
You will all become great citizens and leaders. This year you’ve traveled even further along that path. You have a thirst to learn about how our country came to be. I am so impressed with how you let me veer off the curriculum to teach a unit on Veterans. It was so touching to see you let your guard down and openly display how the lyrics of the songs affected you.
You allowed me to take chances, try new things, and to not worry if the lesson didn’t always go off as planned. Your unconditional support allowed me to grow.
We also shared our lighter side as we used games to learn. There were games like Scrambler, Zapped, Draw It, and the Yes/No game to see how well you thought you knew me. Then there was the silly side. Remember when we got our microphone to work? Would anyone believe we sang Frozen karaoke? Shhh, it’s our secret.
I tend to portray a tough exterior, but I know on our last day together there will be tears. You can’t spend two years with a group like you and not feel sad to see you go. You have matured in ways I don’t think even you realize.
As you move on to the next phase of your life, I want you to remember a few things. You are more than a test score. A test is your opportunity to shine. You matter, and you will make a difference in this world. Above all, you will always be my kids and I will always be here for you.