Y’all. It’s May-hem. May-member. May-day. May the force of common sense be with you.
And Pinterest crafting isn’t in my wheelhouse this month. (Or ever, honestly. So if you love some sanding and painting and cutesy font notecards this post is not for you, and please, sell me your services next year because I have the black thumb equivalent of gift giving.)
I love my kids’ teachers. LOVE them. One math teacher gave us her cell so we could text if my middle schooler is on the verge of fraction-induced tears. My son’s kindergarten teacher has a son with the same name as mine AND THE SAME BIRTHDAY 10 YEARS REMOVED so she basically treats him like he’s hers. These are good, good people teaching my kids how to navigate Google and divide negative numbers.
However.
I can’t be all thanks a latte because you helped me grow into one smart cookie since you’re such a sharp teacher.
(For the record, I do appreciate the puns.)
Between my four kids we have TWENTY TEACHERS.
We’re all barely surviving May as it is. Teacher Appreciation week should be moved to September because HALLELUJAH! SCHOOL IS BACK IN SESSION AND WE REALLY APPRECIATE IT.
Also, teachers really need supplies. And support. And extra snacks because some of us (hangs head in shame) can’t be trusted to read the snack schedule.
So if you want to appreciate your kids’ teacher without feeling like a crap mom when everyone else (i.e. half my Insta feed) is cranking out adorable-ness on their Cricket, the best things to do are simply done all year long.
I taught school for years. Middle school mind you.
And this is what I appreciated:
- Boxes of expo markers
- Extra supplies for a kid in need
- Cases of Lysol wipes
- New books for my classroom
- Kids who came to school on time
- Kids who were picked up from extracurricular activities on time
- Kids who said “Yes, ma’am” and “No, ma’am” and “please” and “thank you”
- Ink cartridges
- Tissues
- Agenda signed
- Homework done
- When you have a problem and you come to the me before the principal
- When your kid is dressed appropriately for school so I don’t have to measure their shorts with a ruler
- When you see me in the grocery store and you say, “My kid really loves your class.”
- When you see me at church and you say, “My kid really loves that book you made him read.”
According to my kids, what their teachers really want is:
- Quiet
- Good listeners
- Mint chocolate candy
- Pepper
Here’s what one third-grade teacher told me she wanted:
- Parents to read her newsletter
- But she’ll take a gift card
Here’s the thing. For years, teaching was my job. I didn’t need a reward for doing it because it’s the job I chose and the job I loved/hated and like parenting—my days were endlessly long but those years flew by.
I have a box full of teacher ornaments and magnets. They’re buried beneath a stack of letters from kids telling me my class was their favorite. I’ve long ago spent the Starbucks cards and broken the personalized tumbler (blame: toddlers) and lost half the pair of earrings.
But those parents who raised up respectful kids? Lovable kids? Those are the parents who showed appreciation everyday because they recognized teaching is hard and kids are harder and it’s a calling and a profession that commands respect—those are the parents and kids I remember.
And these days, in the grocery store, I go out of my way to speak to them.
P.S. That picture is from that time my students had a “stick it to ’em” day and stuck post-its all over our doors. BEST GIFT EVER.
P.P.S. In case you didn’t know (but your probably do) I quit teaching to write books and have this fourth baby.My debut, Still Waters, released last fall and is currently a finalist for three different awards. But thank you notes and reviews from readers (like thank you notes from students) are still the most appreciated.
Lindsey P. Brackett 