Dear Teacher Who Celebrates Birthdays,
Several weeks ago when I started this blog, I asked teachers to send stories of cool things happening. As each new story flooded my inbox, my cup began to overflow. Stories are still coming, and each fresh testimony is a reminder of the resiliency of the human spirit. Teachers have every reason to complain, but instead, they are reaching out with stories of encouragement to support their colleagues. It's as if they already know what I am still learning a little more each day.
We overcome by the strength we provide others, or as one teacher put it, "During these trying times, my greatest encouragement comes from the dedication I see in my fellow teachers who find the positive and do whatever it takes to make the best day possible every day for students. Because in the end isn't our students' health, happiness, and well-being what it's all about?"
Why, yes, yes it is.
I loved how all-encompassing her words were. Still, there was part of me that wanted to email her back to ask for a concrete example of making "the best day" for a student, and I suppose I would have had I not, by accident, spotted it the very next day when visiting a classroom.
They read a story about a girl who turned eleven and wasn't having the best birthday. As a pre-reading activity, the teacher asked the students to write a short journal entry about their best birthday. After a few redirects, she noticed a shy girl on the front row had not scribbled a single word. A brief investigation led to the little girl whispering, "I've never really had a memorable birthday."
The teacher's heart sank as she recalled her own favorite party. She was seven years old. It was a My Little Pony party complete with a pink, sparkly bike and multi-colored streamers hanging from the handle bars. In her heart she wished every little girl could feel special- if even for a day. Her wish certainly wasn't the first time teaching reminded her that life had been unfairly kind to her and unfairly cruel to others. She didn't know what to do with the injustice of it all, but good teachers must be skilled at thinking on their feet. She modified the assignment on the spot and told her to write about any birthday she could dream up as being wonderful.
At the end of class, the paper was still blank. The teacher had an idea. After a quick scan, she discovered the girl's birthday was the very next day. Surely, this was a sign. That's when she and her inclusion support teacher mobilized into action. They were determined to make sure the little girl was never again at a loss for how to answer such a simple question.
The next day they came in with streamers and balloons, shiny ribbons, and a buttercream cake- My Little Pony. Thank goodness vintage is cool again. When the girl walked into class, they sang Happy Birthday to the top of their lungs as the class joined in on the chorus. The little girl buried her head, her neck turned red, but when the flurry settled, she had a piece of cake and smiled. Everyone did.
My favorite part about writing these blogs each day is wrapping up the gift of each teacher's story and imagining the receiver on the other side of the screen. Like teachers all over the country, I am determined to do whatever it takes to make you have the best day possible. In a world without field trips, school plays, or pep rallies, we cannot give up on birthdays. Seeing these two teachers rally to create extraordinary out of ordinary restores my hope in the education system as a whole. As long as we have educators who still have the heart to notice a need and bring cake, we are going to be fine- just fine.
Today, I hope you are smiling like the shy girl who had a birthday during a pandemic.
If not, would a piece of My Little Pony cake help?
-CDB