Thirty-four years in education leaves you with a profound collection of stories. Even as I stay busier than ever in this new chapter (writing, making art, photographing the world, and exploring wherever my curiosity leads), I always make space to reflect on the work that brought me here. Today’s throwback wasn't chosen at random; I selected it from my archives because its message still holds a lot of weight for me. It felt right to share it again.
Sometimes revisiting an older piece of work feels like standing in a familiar doorway, noticing details you missed the first time around. I would love to hear what this sparked for you. When you pause to reflect on your own past chapters, what themes or passions keep resurfacing? Please feel free to share your thoughts below. I always look forward to learning from your stories.
Revisiting old familiar memories brings us to visit old vistas in new ways! I feel these student handprints to the core, Todd. I enjoy the old yearbooks "my kids" over the years autographed for me.
One of my memories of grief was when a 7th grader was killed on a dirt bike as he crashed through a wire fence. It was horrific to say the least. This event was kismet for me in that that Monday after the accident was my first day back after my student teacher finished her practicum. She was the only student teacher I had who didn't work out well for the kids or me.
It was a Godsend that I was there that day in 3rd period where we all looked at that empty desk up front and decided it should stay that way. We remembered him and the kids wanted ot do something, but what? I explained sympathy cards and brought in some I'd received after my dad died. We wrote and shared notes, and the class agreed we wanted to send them to our friend's mom.
That big manila envelope of love and remembrance made such a big impact. The mom wrote us back, the kids got to mourn as a group, and understand a lesson on the power of the written word!
I am sorry to say I can't remember this bright, somewhat mischievous boy's name, but his loss left an impact on us all. His mom came in for student-teacher conferences that spring andI shared her son's writing folder and gave it to her.