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In certain classrooms when I finish a lesson I get a chorus of “Thank you.” This fills me with pride warmth and then some wonder. I peek at the student who was coloring with her gel pens all through class and sure enough she’s also thanking me. I want to ask her why she is thanking me. Maybe for finally leaving the classroom? Maybe because everyone is? But if she’s so keen on following the majority she should really have been involved in my lesson. I definitely have the attention of majority of the class the majority of the time. I want to ask the girl who was schmoozing in the corner why her “thank you” is the loudest of all. Did she hear anything I said today? Maybe she thinks that one of the definitions of “Thank you” is “Have a good day.” But I don’t think I’ll single either of these girls out with my inquiry because it seems they do feel thankful — although they may not show it during class. And I wouldn’t want to keep them anyway especially when all of the students are out the door already. So I let it go. 

Some of the nicest thank-you notes I get are at the end of the year. I used to treasure them when I started my teaching career. I pictured one day when I’d grow older or if I’d be lonely or sad that I’d take out the notes and read them. Then my house got too small or my folder too large or the years in school too many or the students’ words too repetitive. I’ m not sure. Or my confidence became too bloated or my relationships too shallow. I’m hoping not. Seriously each and every note makes a difference and infuses me with a passion I then share with my students.