On this eve of the Last Day of School, I must give a shout out to some school folk. First, to C’s teacher this year, a woman I have started calling “The Divine Ms. M.” I’m not sure if she’s old enough to know the reference, but it suits her. When she was discussing a sentence with the class and asked them to tell her the action word in the sentence, she was only slightly surprised when C raised his hand and told her not only was there an action word, but there was an adverb in there as well. She covered well, and believed C when he told her adverbs are words that usually end in “ly,” even though she had to take a moment to remember back to her own school years.
And then there’s Mrs. H, who set up C’s favorite PE activity, the parachute, only to have the kids interrupting her to ask her all sorts of completely irrelevant questions. It prompted her to tell the kids they couldn’t ask her anything unless it was about the parachute. C bravely kept his hand up, she sighed and called on him, and he said, “There’s a Parachute in Colorado.” And he knows exactly how many miles Parachute is from Grand Junction, too.
I can’t forget Mrs. R, who delights the kids with the lovely colors she wears, and even further thrills them by having her hair a shade of something between a red and a purple. She stands out in a crowd, and believe me when I say it’s because of who she is, not what she wears or what color her hair is. But C, as we were writing out Christmas cards this year, leaned over and whispered in my ear with glee, “She has purple hair, Mommy!!!!” It’s pretty much the coolest thing ever.
And Mrs. S, a speech therapist who summed up C’s very self in a single paragraph of his IEP; Mrs. G, who manages to do physical therapy with the kids without them even realizing they are doing work; Mrs. M, who makes the kids love music as much as she does; the aides that wave at him every morning as we drive in….I could go on and on. C is in a place where it seems everyone knows his name; all the aides, the custodian, the other teachers. What more could a parent ask?
Mrs. M, the beloved principal, is a woman who somehow manages to instill control seemingly effortlessly while engendering great love from the kids. After Science Night, complete with a live alligator, a snake as thick as a tree trunk that all the kids were allowed to touch, and robot cars, I asked C what his favorite part of the evening was. “Seeing Mrs. M,” he said. That about says it all.
And to all those other wonderful people, at his current school and the many behind us, to all those people who have helped us get him this far, I can only say bless you and thank you. It really does take a village to raise a child, and we have an awesome village.