This week marks my last at St. Charles School. I started there in August of 2011. When I began, I was coming into a difficult situation. The June previous, the assistant principal died unexpectedly.

I knew Helen. I knew her as a literacy guru: the former language arts consultant in our district. When I entered my office for the first time – Helen’s office – I found many of her books left by her family. Books that had been flagged, written in and ear-marked. Books she had used to ground her practice, guide her staff and spark discussion.

The last few days as I started to pack up my belongings, I flipped through Helen’s books once again. I have referenced them many times over the years. I discovered Helen’s thoughts as I read the notes she left behind. Following in her footsteps, I was both honoured and intimidated. How could I possibly live up to her legacy?

Robert Louis Stevenson once said, “Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds you plant.” Helen, I hope I planted a few seeds and did you proud.

Last week I watched our grade ones perform a short musical for their parents. There’s really nothing more endearing than a performance by kids of this age. We’ve all seen it … There are those who don’t hesitate to fill in for someone who may have forgotten his line. There are those that mouth the words with no sound attached. There are those who turn their backs to the audience and continue to perform. There are also those who ham it up and delight in the laughter of the audience.

As I was watching, I wished there were thought bubbles above their heads. Wouldn’t it be amusing to know what they are thinking as they perform? Not that I think visible thought bubbles would be appropriate in every situation. In fact, in most circumstances – with our family and coworkers, or heaven forbid, for politicians – it would be both dangerous and disastrous. There’s a reason we don’t voice all of our thoughts. But the honesty and innocence of kids would be entertaining, especially in this situation!

It’s easy to complain about how tired we are and how hot our classrooms have become. It’s easy to complain about the never-ending-to-do list and the amount of work we spend writing report cards.

Yet this past week was a reminder about how fortunate we are to be going about our days as normal. The public school next door to our school had a tough week. On Monday, one of their grade six students died after being in a house fire the day before. The teachers shared the news with their classes. There were grief counsellors in the building all week. Students were encouraged to come to school to maintain a sense of normality. And as you can imagine, those teachers were doing their best to keep it together for their students.

I pray that all of the individuals connected to this tragedy have an opportunity to grieve, but also to celebrate the life of this young girl and to make some kind of meaning from the example of her life.

There are fourteen days left in the school year. As busy as I know I will be, I will not complain. I am going to enjoy these last days of school with our students. I am going to be thankful to have the time with each and every one of them. And I’m not going to take any of it for granted.

On Friday I stood near the front entrance of the school greeting a few straggling students coming in after the bell. As one student came into the building, I noticed something in her arms. As I was thinking, “that looks like a chicken … it looks like a real chicken …” it moved and I realized that it was a real chicken. I went up to the student and asked, “Do your parents know you brought a chicken to school?” She said “yes” with some hesitation. When I asked why she brought a chicken to school, she replied, “I accidentally put it in my backpack.” Hmmph. I hate it when that happens.

As she went down the hall towards her classroom – cradling the chicken in her arms – her mom came rushing into the school. “Did you see what my daughter brought to school? A chicken. She brought a chicken to school.” Attempting to stifle my laughter I replied, “She said you knew about the chicken.” “Ten steps away from the school I knew! She had it zipped up in her backpack! I can’t believe she brought a chicken to school.”

To the teacher’s relief, the chicken didn’t stay at school; it did visit for a few short minutes. Apparently they have three chickens at home. Yes, we do live in the city. And yes, I know it sounds like I’ve made this up, but it’s true. I have witnesses to prove it.

It’s hard to believe we’ve hit the home stretch. Non-teachers often say, “You must be winding down.” Teachers (and all those who live with a teacher) know, we are not winding down: we are gearing up! June will arrive in a few short days and each day will be busier than the next as we cross one-thing-after-another off the to-do list.

Amid the hectic nature of these days, this last month of the school year is a wonderful opportunity to guide students through a process of reflection and celebration of their learning. Students are often surprised to look back through their year’s work to see the progress they have made. It is rewarding to hear them say, “I’m really proud of this project!” or “I remember doing this!”

We have hit the home stretch. And as much as we look forward to the sunny summer days ahead, we should be sure to make each of these last days meaningful for our students. To teach them, guide them and inspire them to be their best selves.

Imagine meeting your students ten or fifteen or even twenty years from now. What do you want them to remember about this year? How do you want them to feel about being in your class? Most important, what will you do to make that happen?

I finally got around to watching the movie Hidden Figures this weekend. It got me thinking about how much has changed in the last 50 to 100 years: in particular when it comes to civil rights, gender equality and technology.

The movie is based on a true story about three African-American mathematicians who played an integral role in NASA before it was ‘acceptable’ to have either blacks or women involved in such a way. These women were truly groundbreakers.

A quote by Helen Keller came to mind while I was watching: “I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.”

There will always be areas where the ground needs breaking. And there will always be individuals willing to break that ground. We don’t want our students to place limits on what they can do. We want them to go out and do it!

Today, many people celebrate and honour their mothers. I am grateful for my own mom and her strength and sense of fun. I am grateful for her faith in me even when I doubt myself. I am grateful for her willingness to help her children in whatever situations we face. I am grateful for her unconditional love.

I realize that I am fortunate to have this relationship. For many others, today is a painful day. For some it highlights loss, trauma, strained relationships, broken relationships, or an inability to have children. There are adults and children alike who find this day difficult.

I think of the students in my own school … the grade five student whose mom died when she was in Kindergarten … the student whose mother is an addict and hasn’t seen her son for years … those students in foster care who have vague memories of their biological mothers but often painful or traumatic ones … and the many students who, simply put, do not have positive relationships with their mothers. Sadly, this reflects the reality in most schools. There are kids around the world in these circumstances.

Is Mother’s Day then something we should avoid so as not to offend? Is Mother’s Day passé? No, I don’t believe so.

In our school, as Mother’s Day (and Father’s Day) approach, we encourage our students to honour someone important in their lives. It doesn’t have to be a mother in the traditional sense of the word. But this day provides an opportunity for discussion about the diversity of family dynamics and also helps to instill an empathy and sensitivity for those whose circumstances are not necessarily positive. Often, it is through these discussions that students learn to appreciate what they do have a little more. Often, it is through these discussions that our school families grow a little closer. Often, it is through these discussions when students inspire me with their words of support to their peers.

Mother’s Day is not passé. It simply needs to be approached with awareness and sensitivity.

Yesterday at our assistant principal meeting, I had the pleasure of listening to three principals speak about their journeys in leadership.

It is immediately clear as they speak that all three are in leadership positions for the right reasons. All three recognize the challenges of the job as opportunities for growth. All three genuinely care about their students and their needs. They recognize their staff members as individuals with unique stories and circumstances and do what is necessary to support them on their own journeys. All three strive for balance but give their heart and soul into their callings.

The common thread between them can be summed up in one word: integrity. Integrity is earned over time and proven through one’s words and actions. It is high praise and I don’t use the word lightly. It is something I believe we should strive for no matter our role.

“It is true that integrity alone won’t make you a leader, but without integrity you will never be one.” Zig Ziglar

Last week was somewhat surreal. I received an email telling me that my book has gone to print and that it is now available for preorders. With this news, a few people have asked when I started this project. Well … let’s just say the journey has been a long one: I started years ago, experienced many rejections, and eventually reworked the project with a new focus.

As difficult as the rejections were, I now realize they were necessary. Each rejection, the feedback I received, and my determination to keep pursuing this passion, all made my book stronger. I’m glad the process was not an easy one: the rejections fuelled me.

I’m not the only one for whom rejection has turned into a positive. Check out this amusing (yet thought-provoking) TedTalk: What I learned from 100 days of rejection!

There is an interesting juxtaposition in my home this week. As I read a proof of my manuscript, making final changes before its imminent publication, my kitchen transforms from the empty canvas it recently became to one completely new. Both are signs of creation and yet the diversity of the creations strike me.

More than once this week I have been reassured that I have chosen the right profession. The construction world is not for me. This reflection on career choice reminds me of Seamus Heaney’s poem, Digging first published in Death of a Naturalist in 1966.