Here's the thing about kids:
They are incredibly easy to love.
They are also incredibly easy to become frustrated with.
Today was my first full day soloing; my mentor teacher was at an all-day meeting, so it was all me.
And I said some things I regret.
And slipped into my impatient, sardonic voice for too much of the day.
And responded to too many requests by sighing and staring at the ceiling.
These kids are so tough, but so fragile, and I worry that one of those sighs, frowns, or tired outbursts will permanently break a small part of them.
All I can do is try again tomorrow. Write a few more kind notes, and recognize the wonderful things my students do, and mete out discipline in a measured, even tone, rather than sniping.
All I can do is remind myself that I love these munchkins, even when they're doing all they can to make me forget.
And then keep doing it again and again for the rest of my life,
because even when I get tired of hearing it repeated ad nauseum,
My favorite name to be called is "Teacher."