I Didn't Know

I didn't know that years of school and a college degree would be of little consolation when facing a room full of bright little eyes on the first day of school.
I thought I was ready...
I didn't know that five minutes can seem like five hours when there is idle time and an eight hour school day far too short for a well-planned day of teaching.
I didn't know that teaching children was only a fraction of my job. No one tells you about the conferences and phone calls, faculty meetings and committees, paperwork and paperwork...
I didn't know that it took so long to cut out letters, draw and color pictures, laminate-all for those bulletin boards that were always "just there"...
I didn't know that I would become such a scavenger, and that teaching materials would feel like pure gold in my hands...
I didn't know that an administration and co-workers that support and help you could make such a difference...
I didn't know that there would be children that I loved and cared for and stayed up late worrying about, who, one day, would simply not show up.
And that I would never see them again...
I didn't know that I can't always dry little tears and mend broken hearts. I thought I could always make a difference...
I didn't know that the sound of children's laughter could drown out the sound of all the world's sadness...
I didn't know that children could feel so profoundly.
A broken heart knows no age.
I didn't know that a single "yes ma'am" from a disrespectful child or a note in my desk that says "You're the best!" could make me feel like I'm on top of a mountain and forget the valleys I forged to get there...
I never knew that after one year of teaching I would feel so much wiser, more tired, sadder and happier, all at once.
And that I would no longer call teaching my job,
but my privilege.