It is Teacher Appreciation Week.
A week isn't long enough to properly thank them.
They are life changers, mentors, instructors, nurses, caregivers, surrogate moms and dads, counselors, givers of love and hugs and self-worth, the original multi-taskers.
Teachers spend more time with kids once they start school than parents. Teachers have to referee squabbles in the sandbox and then try to teach kids how to read. They have to console a child whose dog has died and then explain how atoms work.
Teachers spend their own money, which they don't earn enough of to begin with, to buy teaching materials. They grade papers when they are trying to help their own kids with homework.
If I start naming names, I am going to miss someone.
So a blanket thank you to all teachers.
But, I can't hep myself.
Mr. Hood. The first and only African American teacher I had. He taught us just by being there at a basically all white high school about race. And history. And how to be cool. And how to laugh.
And Mrs. Harrison. My kindergarten teacher. She taught us how to read. And what happens when you screw up. (The woman had a serious hiney swatter that she used daily on my friend Mac. I wonder if Mac can sit down yet?)
And the teachers at Celina High School who took care of my kids when things were tough at home. And the teachers at Trinity Christian who taught my kids how the Bible is still a valid document and prepared them for excellence in college. And the teachers at Ursuline Academy who taught my girls discipline, self-worth, and hard work. And Ms. Linden, Mrs. K, Miss Kitty, Miss Mary and Miss Peita who have helped raise my little peanut into a happy, talented, loving, inquisitive girl.
Thank you all and may your good works continue to produce more good fruit.