At this time of year, we often hear commencement speeches written for graduates from high school or college. We see and read these speeches as they go viral on facebook, twitter, or youtube. High school students and college grads listen to them as they ponder the wide vast world that lies ahead.
And this is great. Let them ponder. Let them imagine, hope, and dream abstractly. But we teachers of lesser age groups, we teachers of students not yet capable of abstract thought, we have words of advice and dreams for our students as well. But the best we can do, come our final day with them, is to hope that one day in the far off future they will imagine what we once dreamed for them, and that they will understand why we dreamed it.
So let's suspend reality and pretend that the 26 first graders I will be sending off on their long and winding road into the future can for a moment understand what the "future" really is and think deeply about advice that may not become relevant to them for many years to come.
June 12, 2012
Dear first graders of the class of 2023,
In 10 years, you will barely remember me. Do not look aghast, do not feign shock...we all know this to be true. I will become a name on a list as you reminisce with old friends about "who you had" in elementary school. I will become a distant fuzzy memory in your past. You may remember certain things, maybe a book, maybe the way the room smelled, maybe a certain pair of shoes I owned. But all those memories you hold so clearly in your heads now, the vast majority of them will fade and then disappear completely. These memories will fade for me as well, but know that I will not forget you. In ten years, I will remember your 7 year old face. I will remember your struggles, your accomplishments. A hundred more students may pass through my doors, adding to the near 200 that already have, but I will remember you.
Despite the fact that you may not remember me down the road, I hold a deep seated hope that I have helped to plant the seeds of your future. I hope that you grow and develop the qualities I see sprouting in you already, and even if you never attribute an ounce of those qualities to me, I hope that I lent a hand in helping you become the person you will one day be. Here is what I hope for you:
I hope that you do not lose your zest for life. In first grade, everything is exciting. Did you know that rocks get darker in water? When you learned that your eyes almost popped out of your head and your mouth fell open. Did you know that R can be a thief and steal a vowel sound? The day you learned that, you scoffed at the unrighteous indignity of the letter r. And poetry...oh poetry. You relished in the joy of writing poetry--sitting outside on a sunny day, watching the crows fly over the dusty red soccer field and the trees bend deeply in the wind. You thought that life couldn't be any better. Don't let that excitement slip away. Life is exciting. Live it and love it.
I hope that you love to learn. I hope that you love to read, write, inquire, and observe. Because if you love to do these things, you will love to learn. And if you love to learn, then your zest for life will never be lost. You will never be able to learn it all. Even if you live to be a hundred years old, you could still learn more. And the more you learn, the more I hope you want to learn.
And as your hunger for learning grows, I hope you break the rules. I hope you take risks. I hope you challenge the status quo. I hope you think creatively. I hope you push the boundaries. Because how do you know where the boundaries really are if you don't try to cross them every now and then? (Just wait until after June 20th to do this...)
I hope that you continue to make mistakes. All year long, we have celebrated our "great!" mistakes, shared them with our classmates, and learned from them. You have learned that mistakes are OK and that the world will not end if you get the answer wrong. I hope you continue on in your life unafraid to try something new and fail. Because from that failure, you can learn and grow and try again. And then you will do all the better on the second try. But there is a caveat to this hope. I hope that you learn that some mistakes cannot be fixed. Certain words cannot be unsaid, and certain deeds cannot be undone. Life will go on (in most cases) and you will learn from these mistakes, but you will be different. You and others will be changed by these unfixable mistakes. Try to make as few of these as you can.
I hope that sometimes you are sad. Because sadness is a part of life. And without true sadness, how will you ever be able to know true happiness? Be sad, and be OK with it. But then move on and enjoy the happiness that will inevitably come.
I hope that someone is unkind to you. Yes, I do hope this. Because it is during these times, when people are unkind to you, that you will develop your compassion. I hope that you remember what it felt like when someone was unkind to you, and then try your best to never make anyone else ever feel that way.
I hope that someone is kind to you. So that you know the joy that one person can give another. So that you will want to spread the joy, to pay it forward.
I hope that you do not become jaded by life. I hope that you do not believe us when we try to tell you that the most important measure of your success is a test score. I hope that you do not become bogged down by power standards, learning targets, and the common core. I hope that you do not become so cynical that you can't move forward. I hope that your parents provide a kind and loving home for you, but if they don't, I hope that you grow up and leave it all behind. I hope that you do not continue to spread the neglect and apathy that you may face in the coming years. I hope that you take life's difficulties in stride and grow from them instead of letting them push you down.
I hope that you smile. I hope that you find something that makes you smile, something like teaching, running, or taking care of a dog, and I hope that you hold on tight to it. I hope that you shape your life around it. I hope it is the root of your life, all other things growing out of it. And I hope that in the sad times, the unkind moments, the harsh realities of life, you remember where your root is.
All these things, I hope for you, little ones. Because you have so much growing to do. And there will be so many challenges you must face. So finally, I hope that you are strong. Because the road you must walk--no--the marathon you must run for the remainder of your years requires a strength beyond anything you could possibly imagine.
Good luck with the future. It can hold great things for you if you choose to let it.
Sincerely,
Your first grade teacher
I love this ...
ReplyDeleteThanks Jenny!
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