Toward the end of my third-grade year, I noticed that peers were giving gifts to our teacher, and in return, later that day, she would give them a handwritten thank-you note on scented paper.
I wanted in on that action.
We were living with my grandparents at the time, my mom down on her luck, and I didn't want to ask an adult to take me shopping to spend money we didn't have.
So, I swiped a magnet from Gramma's refrigerator, wrapped it in tissue paper and delivered it to my teacher. At the end of that day, I received the coveted thank-you note.
Of course, petty theft and dishonesty are no way to show someone you care, but I didn't quite grasp that dichotomy at the time. I also didn't understand — and didn't fully realize until I was a teacher myself — that the best gifts of teaching aren't wrapped, can't be placed on a desk or under the Christmas tree. The best gifts, and sometimes the most unexpected, are received daily, the byproduct of interacting with children.
Some days those gifts include high-fives, smiles, light-bulb moments and deep conversation. Every day with children offers the opportunity to learn something new.
Teaching is the kind of career that engenders constant discovery — and not just because of the content we're delivering. (Though I am fortunate to have a job that requires a working knowledge of Greek mythology, time travel theories and the roots of machismo.) Teachers constantly learn from their students.
How else would I know about PewDiePie? He's the ridiculously nicknamed YouTuber from Sweden who was born the same year I graduated high school and has more than 77 million online subscribers.
In fact, how else would I know what a "YouTuber" is? It wasn't until I started teaching that I learned it is one of the most coveted future careers of the adolescent set. (I always advise my wannabe YouTubers to have a backup plan in place.)
These children teach me how our world is changing. At the end of our persuasive writing unit, my seventh-graders wrote letters to be mailed the old-fashioned way. Almost none of them knew how to address an envelope — or were even certain where to place the stamp. They didn't understand the difference between a street address and a P.O. box. They were fuzzy on the necessity of a ZIP code.
They've never known life without email, a concept that fascinates me and forces me to consider which customs and behaviors will eventually disappear altogether.
Their reliance on technology doesn't preclude their humanity, though. These young people have earnest concerns about the world's problems. This school year, my students have identified and defined societal challenges — racism, famine, poverty, lack of education for girls worldwide, gender inequality, endangered animals, cancer, drug use, climate change — and brainstormed solutions.
When they write about themselves and their world — our world — they are sharing the kind of intangible gifts that make working with children so rewarding. Our young people are paying attention, and they're not waiting until they're grown up to tackle tough issues.
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| Lovely (and delicious!) cookie from a student this year |
The families I serve are thoughtful and generous. I am thankful for every single box of chocolate, gift card and coffee mug that I received from students before winter break. When I count my blessings as a teacher, though, it's those students themselves that I place at the top of my list.
Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. She can be reached at tyradamm@gmail.com.
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