Spring has knocked on our door. Today when I walked the dog there were fewer puddles to avoid. I noticed a little girl on a bike and a boy on a scooter. The chances of slipping on ice are less with each day of melting. Barbecue smells have begun to waft through the early evening air once again. My winter boots, gloves and scarves are ready for summer hibernation. I’ve even considered putting away my snow brush but I’ve lived in Edmonton too many years to tempt fate.

Each day brings us closer to a well deserved Spring Break. It won’t be long now…

Despite what is going on in my world, I am fortunate to be surrounded by the innocence and exuberance of children. A foul mood or a painful back are no competition for the impassioned hugs of children. Their words, their excitement and their love make every day precious.

Last week, two high school teachers visited our school. They acknowledged how difficult and demanding it is to teach in an elementary school. At our level, we teach so much more than curriculum. We teach turn-taking, habit-making, social skills, citizenship, self-management and hygiene. The lessons are often spontaneous and timely.

Despite the demands of our job, elementary school is where I love to be. A frustrating day quickly turns around when a little one exclaims with great enthusiasm, “Look! I found the letter M!” Children discover simple pleasures in every day moments.

“The soul is healed by being with children.” Fyodor Dostoevsky

Teachers are a breed of their own. I can spot them anywhere.

What is it about us? What we wear? How we present ourselves? How is it that we are so easily identifiable? My stepdaughter teases me when we are shopping: “That’s a teacher outfit!” I remind her again and again, that yes, I am a teacher.

On Thursday and Friday, thousands of teachers invaded downtown Edmonton. I wonder what the everyday downtowners think of these days when parking becomes scarce and they are overrun by teachers (teachers who are so excited to be in a restaurant for lunch in the middle of a work week no less)!

In a room full of teachers, the humour touches our shared experience. References to 5 minute lunches, adventures on supervision, words said in front of sixth graders that you immediately regret (“hold on to your balls” for instance). Yes, I’m guilty of that one in a grade six phys. ed. class: a mistake you only make once.

Being a teacher is not the easiest way to earn a living. It is physically and emotionally demanding. Yet, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Yes, I am a teacher and proud of it, too.

My role as an educator in an interesting one. No two days the same. I’ve noticed lately that many tears are shed in my office: by students, by parents and sometimes even by staff. The world we live in is certainly a challenging one. Many people are seeking comfort or solace in their lives. Many are out of sorts. Many have lost their way.

I wonder about the pressures in society these days. Are they reasonable? Where do they stem from? How can we find balance and shalom in our lives?

Some find solace in music, others in physical activity, still others in prayer. Whatever our outlet, it is essential that we strive to live our lives with balance and teach our students to do the same. Ultimately, I feel honoured that individuals feel safe enough to shed their tears in my office. Sharing emotion can be the first step to feeling better. As Renee Peterson Trudeau has said, “Often we have to break down to break through.” This too shall pass.

This week was nothing short of surreal. After a week of sitting in a hospital watching the goings-on, I have realized that I wouldn’t (actually couldn’t) work in a hospital in any capacity. I just couldn’t hack it. And yet, for others, this is their passion, their calling even.

I met a wonderful young man who I admire greatly. He is an ambulatory specialist and works with patients in acute care. No matter the gender or age, he is able to connect and relate to those he works with. His personable, non-judgemental nature allows the sick to engage in conversation and momentarily forget where they are and why they are there. He treats all he works with as people not patients.

Coincidentally, I was encouraged to read more about Pope Francis today. In a book entitled Lead With Humility, Jeffrey A. Krames (a non-Catholic incidentally) speaks to Pope Francis’ personal mission and style: “We see how he embraces all of God’s creatures, including – and especially – the meekest and weakest among us, and creates an environment in which all can thrive.”

I don’t know if any of those I encountered last week were Catholic or know of Pope Francis’ mission. I do know that many of them lead with humility, maintaining dignity in situations where dignity is easily lost.

In Pope Francis’ own words, “If we can develop a truly humble attitude, we can change the world.”

I work with many struggling young readers. For most, the daily focused work, along with the excellent teaching of the classroom teachers, is enough to give them the little boost they need. They may never catch up to their peers, but they certainly make gains.

Yet there is one little boy who I work with each day that makes few gains. It’s not that he’s not trying. It’s not that I’m not trying. Despite continual repetition and the pulling of strategy after strategy out of a hat like a magician, he cannot retain what we are teaching.

He does not know the alphabet: he is in grade two. The letters are a huge road block to his success. Reading is difficult when you don’t even remember the first letter of your name not to mention all of the others.

His frustration is reaching new heights. He’s no dummy. He sees those around him with access to the written word and he hangs his head in shame. The tears come too sometimes.

My frustration is mounting too. Not with him. With myself. Why can’t I find the key to unlock the door for him? The various keys I have used with many others over the years are not working for him. It is exciting to see the eventual glimmer of hope or the moment when students walk through the door of the literate. He and I haven’t had that moment yet. One day soon I hope…

I work with a little girl each day who would definitely be considered a girly-girl. Before we begin reading she often asks, “Is there a girl in this book?” Her question comes if the book is about bugs or plants, sports or space, pretty much any non-fiction book come to think of it. She frequently asks if we are going to read books about princesses.

Some say that gender differences are created by the society we live in: pre-defined gender roles, gender specific advertising, the tradition of blue for boys and pink for girls, cars and trucks versus dolls and dollhouses. Others believe our preferences are inherent in who we are.

There are certainly no absolutes. I grew up with brothers and older male cousins. My go-to activities were baseball and street hockey. At times, I still enjoyed playing with Barbies and stuffed animals but I don’t think I would have ever been considered a girly-girl.

Ultimately, it shouldn’t matter what our children decide to play with or what they like to read or wear. They should be accepted for who they are. And though it wouldn’t be my preference, I’ll even pull out a princess book or two…

Last week I spoke to a colleague about the teacher that influenced my life the most. He came up casually in conversation and yet his impact was significant. He was the one who discovered the writer in me: he gave me the gift of language as a way to cope with the realities of teenage life.

All kids need a significant adult in their lives, especially kids at risk: kids who have experienced trauma, kids who have lost a parent at a young age, kids who are vulnerable because of differences. A caring adult is a powerful influence and inspiration.

I sometimes get comments or emails from parents raving about a teacher, explaining how their child’s life has turned around. Those kinds of teachers are the ones we look to hire. A teacher with both passion and compassion: someone who knows that teaching is more than curriculum.

Mr. Jason, you were that teacher for me. Thank you. I write because of you.

At our staff PD day this past week we had time for extended reflection at several points throughout the day. We all had quiet, written reflection time, time watching an audiovisual presentation and also a choice of either Yoga, Clay or guided prayer.

I spent more time on this day quiet and reflective than I have for a long time. Typically, when I do decide to sit still, I am multi-tasking. On this day, I was surprised at where my thoughts led me when I took the time to simply think and reflect with no distractions. I came away feeling healthier, stronger even. My mind drifted from thoughts of my family to thoughts of our students. I contemplated this new year and what I hope to accomplish. I took the time to plan and dream and give thanks.

During my work with the clay, we sat in silence molding and shaping the clay in our hands, open to the creative process. These moments were transformative and theraputic, peaceful and calming.

I wonder how many of our students ever have this time for reflection: an extended period of mindfulness without interference from people, devices or noise? Few I would think. As teachers, how could we foster this time for reflection in our classrooms? How could we empower our students to be more mindful in their lives?

“Be happy in the moment, that’s enough. Each moment is all we need, not more.” Mother Teresa

Tomorrow in a north Edmonton school, there will be an empty desk in grade three. The tragic events that unfolded in the last days of 2014 took Elvis’ life. As I watched the news, I felt the tears well for a little boy I didn’t know.

Actually, there was much heartbreak over the holidays. Some of our district staff and students are returning to school after losing a loved one. And whether under tragic circumstances or expected after an illness, there is always pain.

I am fortunate: I return to school tomorrow excited to see my colleagues and anticipating the hugs from our students. My world is in tact. Yet we unite in prayer, supporting and comforting those in need. We pray for those whose lives have been forever altered. We pray for strength for those touched by tragedy.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” Proverbs 3:6