Say it isn't so

(photo taken in 1990, my 2nd year of teaching)

I walk out of my summer school classroom, anxious to get into my car and drive off campus for my 3 day weekend.  I make it about 20 yards down the sidewalk, and I hear, "Ms. S, Is that you?  Ms S?  THE Ms. S?"

I turn and spot a woman, clad in capri pants and a long, white button down shirt.  Her hair is tossed up in a loose pony tail, and she holds in her hands a gradebook.  Her face is familiar, but I can't place her.

"Ms. S., It's me Amy K.  Remember me? It's been a long time."

"Oh, yes.  I remember you," and I'm only partially lying.  I DO remember her.  I DO, but I have no idea when I taught her.  I quickly scan my brain.  Was she in my class last year?  Five years ago?  Ten years ago?  I can't place her in time.

"I'm a teacher now.  I teach Biology here.  I've been teaching here since 2002."

"Oh, that's wonderful!"  I say as I analyze this clue as to when this WOMAN was a student of mine.  She's been teaching 6 years plus her 4 years of college.  So, it's at least 10 years ago.

"I got married recently.  I have two children.  Both boys.  A 17 month old and a 7 month old." 

"Wow.  Congratulations.  Sounds like you've got quite a nice family."

"Do you remember Lilian?  She's just finishing up medical school."

I have taught so many Lilians that I say, "Of course I remember Lilian!  That's awesome.  She was always so smart."

Medical school takes a lot of years, I contemplate, still trying to place Amy in a grade and a school and a year.

Finally, I ask, "Amy, just how old are you now?"

"28,"  she replies, "You taught me at G. Elementary School in 1991.  Remember?  I was in the 6th grade!"

"Say it isn't so!  Oh, my! It HAS been a while!" I exclaim.

 

THAT Lilian!  Of course I remember Lilian.  And it all floods back in.   

I see all of their faces, faces of 6th graders: Lilian and Amy and Pei Chi and Mei Chi and Howard.  This group of kids hung out in my classroom during lunch.  They followed me around the school.  They made me laugh so hard I thought I would roll over and die from an aching side.

"Pei Chi is a now a chiropractor," she says, "Mei Chi works as an accountant for a top 10 firm. Do you remember Leon?  He's doing well, too.  I'm not sure what he's up to these days, but I saw him at our 10 year reunion."

"You were in the class with Howard, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I have no idea what happened to him, she says, "He went to a different high school."

"He got married recently," I say, and his sister, Amy, is recently engaged."

"So you've kept in touch with their family."

"Yes.  I hear from Amy about once a year," I tell her.

"Let's meet next week" she says, "and I'll show you photos of my babies, and we can catch up."

"Okay, that's sounds nice."  I say.

I walk away remembering my early years as a teacher.  I do the math in my head and realize that I was younger then as her teacher than she is now. 

How does it happen?  The years slipping through my hands, it seems. Brings it all to mind now.  I begin to calculate the numbers.  2700 students have crossed through the doors of my classroom during the last 19 years. 

In the fall, I will embark on my 20th year as a classroom teacher. For me, it has always been about the students, and seeing Amy helped me put all those years of working two jobs and during the summers (so I could afford to teach) into perspective.

I am 42 years old, and I don't own a home, but I do have a legacy. 

And, for that, I'm grateful.

Comments

[Eileen]

It goes by so fast! I can't believe I have been in the schools since 1985! When I run into former students who call my name, I do the exact same thing you do in your mind. Once I have placed them, when I peer into their eyes, I "see them" and remember so much about them. The eyes don't change.

You have a legacy, that is for sure. Your love for your students stays with them. They don't forget.

It is cool to see them come full circle. The fact that she is now a teacher, says a lot. You are truly blessed, as are your students.

[Jenn @ Juggling Life]

I'm not going to be able to say it's my 20th year teaching until I'm 65! I think it will be worth the wait.

[Lo]

So cool Sh La.......

xoLo

[carrie Link]

You SO have a legacy! A HUGE, important legacy. Apparently someone didn't teach her about BIRTH CONTROL, however, not that it was your job as her 6th grade teacher, but c'mon, a 17 and 7 month old??

And, don't think that her becoming a teacher was an accident! You INSPIRE, as well as educate! YTB!

[San Diego Momma]

The legacy is the true mark of success. It lives on, the house falls eventually, but not the legacy.

Wonderfully written.

[david]

twenty years from now no one will care if, or the size of the house you had, or what type of car you drove. But how important you were in the lives of so many children will make you rich beyond belief. Live, love, and learn, are the start, but to leave a legacy is the highest of goals.
I applaud you!

[Hetha]

Your legacy is much larger than you know...that is for sure. Your teaching style combined with your warm and loving personality have made a difference in countless lives. It's incredible when you think about it. How many of us have the chance to make a difference to so many people?

[HSY]

AN AWESOME legacy! I'm having a reunion tomorrow with kids I "looped" with for 6th-7th- and 8th grades. We were together for 3 years-- they felt more like family than students-- and tomorrow is our "ten year reunion" (from 8th grade). Most of them are 24-25 years old now. I am so eager to see what they've grown up to be.

[namaste]

Wow! What a great post!

[Deb]

You will never really know how significant an impact you've had on all those young lives you nurtured and guided. I'm so glad you got this taste. You are an inspiration, not only to your kids, but also to those of us who call you friend and colleague. Love you!

[Ashley]

Legacy doesn't even seem to capture the magnitude of what you leave behind in your students, She. Who you were even in your first year of teaching impacted me in ways that shaped who I was as a child as well as who I have been for the last 6 years as an educator. Not one yearbook passes through my hands at the end of a school year without reminding me of the power of the words you wrote in mine, and there isn't a moment of shared sorrow and tears with a student that doesn't take me back to the way you took time (that you probably didn't really have) to speak truth and life into my fragile heart, maybe without even knowing what you were doing (since I'm not sure what I really told you, or anyone for that matter, about what was going on with me that year). And now, as a reconnected friend 19 years later, God is using you and your verbalized journey to open pieces of my heart that have been locked up for years. Love you!

[She]

You, Dear One, I never forgot, not for one moment. I so remember your sweet smile and long, dark hair pulled back with a bow so often. I can't believe I have the deliciously sweet fortune of being reconnected with you! It makes my heart expand a thousand times wider than I've ever known or experienced. I absolutely love you! I'd love to be a student in your classroom!