Being a literacy coach affords me many professional blessings. There are many privileges in working schoolwide and throughout the district. I work with all my elementary peeps, any grade level, any adult, any student. There is a lot of satisfaction in what I am doing now. I would say there is a cost, for me anyway. The cost of moving to this position is the daily interaction with students. Sure, I get to see kids during my day, but not the same ones at the same times where I can build relationships that feel lasting and impactful. That is what I miss most about the classroom, and I'm surprised to say the same about interventions. I miss "my kids" sometimes.
At the beginning of the semester, I was in a 5th grade class teaching about the kind of reading we will do for nonfiction book clubs. The students were all listening attentively and interacting accordingly. I said, "Ok, let's get started." The kids started talking about how they thought this kind of work was going to go, and orienting themselves to their texts. I got busy jumping in and out of groups, listening to some, jumping in to probe questions and "hmm, interesting" here and there. One boy, that I had not really worked with before, asked me to join his group. I said that I was due somewhere else soon, but would love to know about their progress in the days to come. So, that started our daily visits.
Everyday, Nick drops by on his way out the door while waiting for all the 5th grade car riders to get in line and be ready to leave for the day. He knocks, sticks his head in, asks if I have time to talk. In the beginning, he updated me on the group, their progress, the dynamics of the kids, the books, his questions and ponderings. It was great. Nick loves sports. He plays all of them, currently flag football. I don't know his family, but he tells me about them in little 3-5 minute snippets. Today, he tells me he is going to the Bahamas for spring break! WOW!
This boy brings me a daily reminder that I am doing "something" worthwhile. He makes me feel like my work is important, and that he is glad that I am at school. He isn't the only friendly, conversing kid at my school, but he is the only one who takes time to say something to me each day, and for that, I am grateful.