First Grade is Such a Distant Memory

Long long ago I was a first grade teacher and I did it for a long long time. As a support provider I once again find myself in first grade classrooms to observe my teachers. The same feeling washes over me each time I cross the threshhold. I did this? I stood in front of these little bodies for 180 days at a crack and taught them to read and write and add and subtract? You have got to be kidding me! As I look at these little ones with confusion over who I was or who I have become I distinctly remember my family saying the same sorts of things to me. How do you do it? Where does the patience come from to work with 6 year olds? I have absolutely no explanation of the journey I have been on. But when I looked at those kids today it was like being on another planet. They have such round little faces and bodies and speak with such squeaky high pitched voices. Looking into their eyes, the word diligence came into my head. They all looked so darned serious about what they were doing. They sit up straight in their chairs and speak with the upmost respect to any and all adults. Seriousness pervades their very being. It is such an opposite world from my sixth grade students who just flop into their chairs and meet your gaze with that "I dare you to teach me look." Glancing around the room you're amazed at the cleanliness, for lack of a better term. The girls are so cute from the top of their perfectly parted hair below a crown of headbands and frilly little scrunchies all the way down to their shiny sparkly shoes. The boys are almost squeaky clean in their tucked in polo shirts and perfect pants. They're even cute when they are getting in trouble. The lower lip gets sucked inside the mouth and you wait for the tears but they are held tight inside. They sulk down in their chairs until you think they will completely melt away. Minutes later someone is walk/skip/dancing across the room. You hear something that resembles a song and realize that one of them is read/chant/singing the directions on the paper. It is close to comical but the seriousness that is everywhere in the room keeps the smile on your face from being vocalized into a giggle. Something catches my eye and I see an upside down index finger being inserted into a mouth like iron to a magnet. Is the seriousness turning into something more? As I rise to leave, I see one of those perfect princesses running towards me. I bend down to meet the outstretched arms and she says, "Thank you for coming to watch us today." How cute is that? But really... I did this? Everyday? For 8 years? It is umcomprehensible but at the same time a wonderful reminder of this amazing journey I am on.