Letter to a Kindergarten Teacher
As many of you probably know, my little Ivy starts kindergarten in four days, and as excited as I am for her reaching this important milestone, I’m a bit heart-heavy, too. I worry about the impressions she will make, the friendships she will have, and most importantly, the teacher who will be in charge of her education during one of the most critical formative years in her life. I decided to compose a letter to this future, as of yet, mystery teacher to give at orientation, and for reasons that I can’t clearly define. But I can attempt to explain.Maybe it will make no difference in the quality of the interaction between the teacher and my daughter, but I’m no kind of mother if I don’t think of creative ways to facilitate a positive environment for my daughter as often as possible. I say this because I’ve had some damn mean teachers myself, and some of them did seem “out to get me”. The reality is that these poor ladies and gentlemen were probably overworked, underpaid, under-appreciated, and under stress, and if this letter helps make even an ion of difference, it’s worth every word. Here’s what I wrote:
Dear Kindergarten Teacher,
You don’t know me, nor do I know you, but we share something precious in common–both of us are going to make an incredible difference in the life of my daughter in the upcoming year. I understand that you’ll have a classroom full of beautiful children, just like mine, and there will be days that feel less “beautiful” than others. I only ask that you try to be patient on those other days, because the effort will be indirectly rewarded. You most likely won’t see the fruits of your labor up-close; your tender, young students will have long traded the crayon for a laptop by then, but we parents will benefit.
As one of those parents, I’m thanking you in advance for shaping my daughter and preparing her for the unknown, uncertain future that is ripe with possibility. I do have a few selfish requests, though, and I hope they’re not hard to fulfill. If my daughter gets out of line, I need to know. I can’t help make your life easier if I don’t know there’s a problem, and while I won’t be the hovering “helicopter parent,” I’ll only be a phone call away. Ditto that, if she’s having problems grasping any of the learning concepts throughout the year. Also, I want to be involved in every opportunity for parental involvement. I’ll be the mother who signs up to bring holiday goodies, the one who volunteers to chaperone field trips, the mom who brings in the “optional” school supplies, and I’ll be the first parent in line to assist you, as needed, for as long as my daughter is in your class. Use me to your advantage.
It is a tremendous job being responsible for such precious cargo, and I’m here to help make it better and easier. Please don’t ever forget what inspired you to teach–you’re second only to the parents of your students in your ability to have a positive impact on their little lives.
Well, readers, what do you think? If you were on the receiving end of this letter, what would you say? I’d love to hear your opinion in the comments.
Check out the last post: Travel Georgia: Lovely St. Simon’s Island