Teach Us

Being a teacher, I see all kind of kids. And lately, I see you in all of them.

I see the you I want to see, in the kids like Alex, * who is so positive and well behaved and enthusiastic, who possesses a determined, stubborn confidence mixed with impeccable manners. I see the son I wish to have.

I see you in Leia,* the down to earth intellectual who talks to me about the books she reads and the community service she performs without prompting, that she does because she is cognizant of her responsibility as a member of her global world. I see the daughter I want to hold and foster.

But I also see you in other kids. The ones who aren't as smooth. I see you in Kevin,* the boy who wants attention so badly that his quest for it makes him arrogant and false, even to those around him. I see you Ellie,* the girl who pretends to be apathetic about the world, when she really wants the world to embrace and love her. I see you in the troubled ones: the difficult child I am terrified to possibly face.

But everything is a lesson, and as I have said to many, my job as a teacher is reciprocal: I learn just as much as I teach. So when I see sparks of you in all of these children, I try my best to love them--ALL OF THEM. Even the ones who are not as easy to love.

I hope this makes me a better mother. I spend much of my time imagining what you will be like, and your father and I spend hours talking about how we will raise you into an amazing, intelligent, worldly, cultured, humble, strong, socially aware individual who will save the world.

But we know better than to hold those expectations of you.

You will be human. Just like us.

So we're ready for your lessons. Teach us what we need to know.