Everything We Do and Everything We Say Matters So, So Much

The idea that, as educators, we have this opportunity for profound and lasting influence is often the reason that we are led to the profession.  The reality of that influence, and the legacy-leaving work that we do can remind us, especially on the hard days, that as we cross the threshold of our school building, today may be the day that a student remembers for the rest of his life.

From the little encouragement we give, to the hilarious, engaging memories we create, we must assume that our students will not only remember us and how we made them feel, but that they will have specific memories of things that we said and things that we did.  It is likely that we will not even remember most of those things.

Think about it.  Who was your favorite teacher?  Now recall a memory of a day in class with that teacher.  Realistically, it is pretty unlikely that your teacher remembers that exact thing.  Which is why we MUST remember that Everything we do and Everything we say matters so, so much.  Because the thing that your students remember could literally be anything. 

As I think about one of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Oliver, the thing that I can distinctly picture in my mind was entering that third grade classroom every day.  I can see her face, every detail.  From her bright and inviting smile to her dark hair and big brown eyes, I remember.  As she greeted me each morning, I could feel the complete joy that she felt in getting to see me.  I knew, in my third grade heart, that I was, without question, her favorite student.  That smile and her friendly greeting remains etched into my memory forever.  Forever.

After 26 years of teaching, I now know that the magic of Mrs. Oliver was that every single student in her classroom felt the exact same way.  Ask any one of us in her class, and we would have quietly admitted to knowing that we were her favorite student.  She did that.  She did that because she realized that from the very first moment she saw her students, they were recording.  Everything she did and everything she said mattered.

My mom, a teacher for 35 years who is now retired, had a little boy in her kindergarten class ask her the question that all teachers dread, “When are you going to get those papers checked and back to us?”  

“Well,” she answered, “They are in my car and I have been very busy, but I promise tonight I will get to them.  I am a little concerned though because there are so many papers that I may need a truck to get them all to school tomorrow!”

So, sure enough, that evening, she was going through those papers, adding smiley faces and stickers to each one, when the phone rang. 

“Mrs. Herr?” 

“Yes?”

“Johnny is telling me that you need us to bring the truck to school tomorrow, but we don’t quite understand why.” 

The precious part is that they were perfectly willing to figure out a way to bring their truck to school, they just needed some clarification. J Everything we say.  Everything.

Thank you to Mrs. Oliver, Mom, and to so many other teachers, for helping me to understand the power and influence of teaching.  The memories of you and the things that you said and the things that you did remind me to treat the honor and privilege of teaching with the reverence my students deserve.

Teach! Indiana!!