A few weeks ago I heard someone say, “we can’t not be a model” when speaking of the teaching profession. Whether we realize it or not, whether we want to be or not, we are full-time models for students. Our words, our body language, our social media profile, our actions and even our inactions have many eyes.

Typically, we are deliberate in our words and actions when we stand in front of our classes. And yet sometimes, we are caught in moments of fatigue or frustration, or we might become more casual or inadvertent as we speak to our colleagues in the hallway. It doesn’t hurt to remember that many eyes are watching.

The joy of this profession is the tremendous influence we have on our students. And perhaps this is the burden, too. Kids and parents hold us to high standards. As they should.

“Children are great imitators so give them something great to imitate.” Anonymous

The theatres are replaying some of the classics. Today I watched one of my all-time favourites: Field of Dreams. And although I can recite almost every line, I didn’t: I restrained myself for the sake of the others in the theatre.

But today, there was one line in particular that struck me: “You know we just don’t recognize the most significant moments of our lives while they’re happening. Back then I thought, well, there’ll be other days. I didn’t realize that that was the only day.” Moonlight Graham

What are you waiting for? Today is precious and significant. Find your reasons. Enjoy the moment. Be present.

What better gift can we give our students?

If I was graduating high school and deciding on a profession again, I would choose education.

When the kids coming running down the sidewalk for a hug, when I have the opportunity to read my favourite books aloud, when I can share my passion on writing with the students, when I can adhere a bandaid or provide support to a student in trauma, I know education is the place for me.

It is a privilege to be an educator. School is about much more than knowledge. School is life changing. In the words of Confucius: “Education breeds confidence. Confidence breeds hope. Hope breeds peace.”

There’s no better choice for me.

“Yes, the students do begin before the long weekend.”

“No, they are not wasted days. In fact, they’re quite productive from a teacher’s perspective: organizing school supplies, setting routines, building relationships. By the time students are back on Tuesday we’re ready to delve in.”

“Look how tall you are: I think you grew a foot over the summer!”

And, at 2:00 pm Friday inside a grade one classroom, a student takes my hand and leads me out of his classroom… “Ms. Filewych, can I ask you something?”  “Sure Kyle, what’s up?” “Can I go home yet?” “Not yet buddy. Soon…”

I’m sure everyone slept well Friday night: kids AND teachers. I know I did!

As I walked around our school last week, I saw sure signs of a new school year: shiny floors, new supplies, teachers hard at work preparing their classrooms.

I think back to my days as a student and how excited (and nervous) I was to begin the new year: to meet my teacher and settle into a new classroom. All of the students I have seen so far echoed these same sentiments.

There will be both jitters and joy in the days ahead. May the moments of joy outnumber the jitters!

Each year we venture off on vacation: sometimes fairly close to home, sometimes farther. No matter where we go, I always feel a sense of gratitude to be back at home. In our physical home, yes. But back in Canada, too.

This year we traveled to Europe. I’ve been asked my favourite destination or experience and it is difficult to narrow it down: there were so many highlights. And despite the fact that each day was an adventure, it was still wonderful to be back on home turf. Our return flight stopped in St. John’s. How strange that I felt like I was home despite being thousands of kilometres from our house.

With all of the world events taking place, I feel especially grateful to call Canada home. We are not immune from turmoil or violence, but we continue to have a sense of security that many other nations have lost or are losing.

It’s awfully nice to be home.

I’m going to be honest: today I am feeling somewhat sad and at a loss for words.

As the school year comes to a close, I am reminded that some of our students feel sadness and apprehension at this time of year. As excited as many students and staff are to have a holiday at hand, there are those who do not look forward to more time at home.

Let us be mindful of these students in the next week and a half and give them what we can while they are still in our classrooms. They deserve our best.

We have a new baby in our family: he’s now two and a half weeks old. I held him in my arms and marvelled at the miracle of his life. Within an hour, I held the hands of my 94 year old grandmother in palliative care: she is within hours or days of the end of her life.

As I looked down at Carter, I imagined what his life will bring… I wondered what his little personality will be like… I anticipated the joy he will bring to our family.

As I held my grandmother, I felt gratitude for her immense impact on our lives… I felt fortunate for the privilege of knowing such a strong, positive, funny woman… I felt immense sadness knowing she will no longer be a physical presence in our lives.

Both a blessing, both helpless, on either ends of their lives.

Last week, a student in our school asked, “Will I ever be able to read?” Heartbreaking, right?

He doesn’t yet know all of the letters of the alphabet let alone how to string them together to form words. And because he’s a bit older, he knows he should know how to read. He knows that all of his peers can read. He knows he’s missing out on something.

The answer to his question? Yes, he’ll learn to read. It will take some time and a lot of hard work on the part of those who work with him every day, but he’ll learn to read. The basics at least. It is our privilege as educators to unlock the door for him, however long it takes.