In our sweaty, no-air conditioning classroom, The Frey plays in the background and the kids enjoy their weekly reward of “marble time.” I sit and marvel my present circumstance. Three months into this position, I am still convinced that I have the best job in the world. So many things have happened this week…. one student was brought to tears as we talked about the Virginia Tech tradgedy (which in turn brought me to tears), I had the esteemed privilege of introducing them to The Beatles (whom the majority had never heard of), and after a serious lecture on not talking during my instruction, I was able to turn things around by making them loosen up again with my bark-like-a-dog impression. This is my second home– a room with great big windows that expose a world of healthy green trees and more hope than any adult could fathom; a space that fills with 5th graders every weekday at percisely 8:30. They wait, hands folded, waiting for my first word and whether I am prepared or not–they trust me. I am their shepard, and although I feel at times like I am hearding a million untamed cats, I am pround to call them mine. Their smiles lift my tired head, their enthusiasm gives my life purpose.
As I walk the halls, I walk proudly among Kings.
