Letter to my First Year Students

June 1, 2011

Dear Students,

The end of the year is upon us. I know the past few weeks have been hard. The air outside is warmer and we all have summer vacation on our minds. Soon our time together will be over, but before you go, there are a few things I’d like to share.

I’d like to say thank you. Thank you for putting up with me. As students of a first year teacher, you have had much to endure. Not all the lessons have gone like I planned. Sometimes, I should have been better prepared. I haven’t handled every situation perfectly, but I tried to do the best I could at the time. Some things were easier than others and you know there were many times when you resisted along the way. Some times, it may have been hard...but other times it was way too easy. You’ve seen me happy, sad, frustrated, mad…and I remember seeing all of you the same way at some point or another. None of us are perfect. All we can do is try, and admit mistakes when we make them. We can learn from the mistakes and demand more and better of ourselves in the future. You have shaped the teacher I am, the teacher I want to become, and the teacher I will strive to be. Each individual, no matter how talkative or quite, young man or young woman, has had an impact on me. YOU are my first-year students. I know you will not be forgotten.

We survived research papers and vocabulary quizzes. I thought Senior Project would be the death of all of us, but we’re still kicking! We endured short stories and novels. You wrote in your Daybooks, even when I know you didn’t want to. I love literature and I love writing…but I also love young people, or else I wouldn’t and couldn’t be here. The things I will remember the most about this year together are the discussions we had, the times we laughed, and even the times you thought I was crazy and you laughed at me.

There are many of you whom I have known since the spring of 2010, when I stepped into the room as a student teacher. I have watched you grow and mature. You have done the same with me. When it seemed like I was pushing you too hard, just remember it was because I know how capable you really are. Gaining responsibility and learning are not things you do only in school. Soon, you all will leave this place and you will encounter more responsibility and learning than I could ever teach you in a classroom. In twenty years, it won’t matter who Thoreau was or what Gilgamesh encountered on his journey. What matters is your journey, the choices you make, the challenges you embrace, and the commitment you have to achieve your personal best for success. I don’t have all of the answers for you, but I hope to have taught you to ask the questions and seek the answers from your heart and mind.

I will remember talking with you, as individuals and as a class. I will always remember laughing with you, too. Sometimes we laughed because things were really funny. Sometimes we laughed because the only other thing to do was cry. And sometimes, we did cry, and that’s OK too. When you leave this class, there will be new challenges ahead. I hope your time at Morehead is enjoyable and memorable in positive ways. It has been an odd feeling for me to walk the halls and teach in the same room I once sat in as a student. You have made me recall and consider those experiences, not all of which were positive. But, I can assure you, you can make it out of here and far in life if you commit to try. You will blink, and high school will be over. Make the most of it by making wise choices, planning for the steps ahead, and choosing your friends wisely.

In retrospect, I hope you will look at your high school experience and consider the life skills you are learning and have learned. Life is our greatest teacher and the world is our greatest classroom. The real questions have nothing to do with MLA guidelines, formatting your outline, or grammar rules and work sheets. A few of the real questions are: Can you finish something you start? Can you meet deadlines and plan your work? (Whatever the “work” might be.) Can you communicate your thoughts and opinions in such a way as to give yourself a voice, but have the wisdom to know when that voice should be a subtle whisper or a strong sound against injustice? Can you defend your position without causing undue harm or offending when it’s not really worth it? Are you willing to risk being offended when there is no one to defend you, when the cause is worthy of sacrifice on your part? You don’t have to be able to answer these questions all at once. They will present themselves at various times throughout your life, and in many levels of relationships. Just never forget to slow down, take a minute, and ask these questions of yourselves.

I wanted to give you some quote or passage to pass on to you for encouragement down the road. Here is a copy of something my daddy shared with me when I was in high school. I hadn’t remembered it in years, until I came across it during the middle of our semester, and the words really seemed to speak to my heart.

Remember This:
To solve each problem one at a time.
Take each day as it comes.
Stick to your goals—no matter what happens.
Press toward your dreams.
Keep your attention focused on the future as you consider the solutions at hand.
Look for the bright side—even though it may be temporarily covered by a cloud.
Smile often—even when a frown feels more natural.
Think of those you love and know that they love you, too.
No matter how difficult it may seem, you have within you the power,the ability,and the knowledge to make things better.
And always remember that I am proud of you and I love you.

Do not be strangers once our time is over. I look forward to your smiles, your laughter, and your hugs that mean more to me than you can possibly imagine. Room 84 will always be open to you.

With Love,
Mrs. Amanda Rorrer