As an elementary educator, I get hugs. Lots and lots of hugs, all kinds of hugs… booger hugs, sticky hand hugs, bear hugs, jumping hugs, tearful hugs, joyous hugs and drool hugs. When I first started teaching hugs made me uncomfortable. Was it weird to hug a child that wasn’t mine? Why are our kindergartners so grabby? Should I hug them back? Why so many hugs? Despite my lack of ease with the hugging it did not cease, my students would still offer all the hugs, all the time. Read more
Little yellow papers were piled on my desk. They were essays written by students applying to lead their class in student council. The essays were sweet and hopeful. In their essays students shared all about themselves One wrote about earning their black belt in karate, another about helping their sister at home, and one strategic applicant told all about how much she loved Minnesota (a girl after my own heart). Their next step was interviewing with me. The interviews were short, I only had two questions prepared; what are you good at and what is one thing you would like to change about our school? Read more
As caregivers, we are always waiting for firsts, the first time our child sits up, first tooth, first step, first word and more. There are many milestones to celebrate in a child’s life. Witnessing a first is magical, the room grows a little bigger and brighter somehow after these moments. We celebrate them by letting family and friends know our child’s accomplishment. Read more
“This is the wheel. It spins the clay so mommy can pull the clay up to make a mug,” Lavin looks up at me from a blanket on the floor, my hands are caked in mud as I pull up the clay. Earlier he was strapped to me in a baby carrier as I chattered, “I cut the clay and make even squares. I weigh them to check if they are equal.” He is laughing and reaching out, thrilled to be a part of the action. “Now we are wedging the clay, this gets it ready to throw on the wheel.” Lavin squeals in delight. I form a ball as he grabs at it, delighted to be a part of my hobby. He squishes his tiny fingerprints into the fresh clay.