Elementary teachers play serrogate parent for a year. We care about our students and we work really hard to prepare them for a future that we rarely learn anything about after they cease to cross the threshold of our school's doors.
But every now and then a student thinks about us. And every now and then a student who thinks about us tries to let us know. And once in a forever blue moon a student contacts us again with some reflection on our time together. Tonight I came home to discover one of these improbable and amazing contacts in the form of an email:
Subject: Hi from a very old student
Dear Mr. Ash,
First of all, I apologize if this email reaches the wrong person.
I was a student of yours in 1994 (I believe we were one of your first classes at RCES) and I'm writing because the other day I found in a closet at my parent's house a book of poems you had our 4th grade class put together. It brought back memories of a year of amazingly creative assignments and challenging projects.
I remember a time when you designed a whole southern plantation on your computer (one of the first laptops I had ever seen) and each student assumed the personality of a member of the plantation. We wrote "first-person" accounts of our plantation experiences and shared them with the class, along the way getting to really understand the hierarchical structure of southern plantation life. I also remember an intricate system of bi-weekly book reports and projects, and performing a series of plays in front of the class. You were also one of the first teachers I had who really used the computer to enhance learning. I am entering graduate school in the fall and can barely remember most of elementary school, but fourth grade will always stick out.
Thank you again for some wonderful fourth grade memories. I hope you're doing well.
Sincerely,
K. L.
One more reason why I wouldn't trade my life and vocation for all.....
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