Dear Seussical Teacher,
I know a teacher who is using the book Seussisms for quick write Mondays. The book is filled with 30 pearls of wisdom from none other than the legend himself, Theodor Seuss Geisel, better known to each of us, as Dr. Seuss.
I want to be in this teacher’s class. I don’t mean as a literacy coach observing her instructional methods. I mean I want to be in her class as a 12-year-old girl who is confused about most everything except the fact that I don’t want to be in anyone’s class but hers.
When she says, “Today we’re going to respond to a Seussism about being proactive,” I want to be on the front row with my pencil sharpened and ready to write. As she reads the excerpt from the Lorax aloud, “Unless someone like you cares a whole lot, nothing is going to get better, it’s not,” I want to bury the words so deep in my heart that I remember them when I am an adult working with teachers across the district. When she instructs us to write about a time we cared so deeply we created change, I want her to know I'm still young and may not be able to fill up a whole page yet, but in time, I might be able to write a whole blog about it if she keeps investing in me. When she asks for a volunteer to read, I want her to notice my hand first. When she staples a few exemplars to the board, I want to spot my paper in the top right corner. I want it to serve as a neon flashing light that says I contributed. I mattered.
Because of her, I can face the 27th rejection of my first children’s book the way Dr. Seuss did and not let it deter me from continuing to be true to myself. Oh the Places I will Go because she reminds me time and time again that “I have brains in my head and feet in my shoes to steer me in any direction I choose.” Because of her, I might even graduate from Dartmouth like Dr. Seuss did, but even if I don’t, I know I won’t be afraid to try new things, maybe even something crazy like Green Eggs and Ham. Truthfully, there’s no way to know what my future holds, but whatever it is, I know it starts with her.
It doesn’t matter if it’s with Zoom, in a room, in a house, or with a mouse, she’s the rope to keep me afloat and give me hope.
So much hope that one day I may even decide to become a Seussical version of her too. I think this would make Dr. Seuss proud, don’t you?
-CDB
P.S. Happy Birthday, big guy. Like her, you make the world a happier and better place by being a someone who cares a whole lot.
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