Here is where I share with you my thoughts, my hopes, my motivations and my dreams for your success. I welcome conversation and cherish great communication. It is literally the definition of my job to help you. If you can help me do that, I am forever grateful because while you are the student…I learn from you every single day.

Dear students…

I’ve decided to write to you this year.

Not assignments. You get enough of those.

Not announcements or reminders to check Google Classroom or PLEASE PUT YOUR NAME ON YOUR PAPER (although seriously…put your name on your paper).

Just notes.

There are things I think about as your teacher that don’t really fit anywhere in a lesson plan. Things I want you to know about learning and growing up and making mistakes and trying again. Things about kindness and courage and being uncomfortable and figuring out what you believe. Things I notice because I spend my days surrounded by teenagers who are all, in one way or another, becoming.

That’s you.

You’re becoming.

And I think sometimes adults look at teenagers and forget that.

We see the assignment that wasn’t turned in. The questionable decision. The phone that somehow found its way back into your hand AGAIN. The grade. The tardy. The thing you said without thinking.

But none of those things is you.

They’re things you did today.

Tomorrow you get another shot.

I care enormously about your success—but probably not entirely in the way you think a teacher is supposed to.

Of course I want you to learn. I want you to pass your classes. I want you to graduate. I want you to have choices when you leave here.

But I want more for you than a good transcript.

I want you to become someone you’re proud of.

I want your family to be proud of you—not because you’re perfect, but because of the way you move through the world.

I want you to be proud to say you came from our school.

And someday, when you’re out there doing whatever it is you’re going to do with your one wonderfully unpredictable life, I want the rest of us to be glad you’re part of our community.

Because eventually we’re handing this whole thing over to you.

Our workplaces. Our neighborhoods. Our schools. Our institutions. Our problems. Our communities.

The world, basically.

No pressure. 😂

And I want you ready for it.

That means I will cheer for you.

It also means I will occasionally annoy you.

I will expect things from you. I will ask you to try again. I will sometimes give you grace and sometimes decide that grace isn’t what you need. I may tell you something you don’t particularly want to hear.

And then I’ll be happy to see you tomorrow.

Because one of the great things about being a teacher is that I get a front-row seat while you figure some of this stuff out.

I don’t expect you to have yourself figured out yet.

Good grief. I’m still working on it.

Maybe that’s part of why I want to write these notes.

I spend so much time trying to teach you things…and I swear I learn at least as much from you. You make me laugh. You make me think. You challenge things I thought I knew. Occasionally you make me wonder whether I’ve completely lost my mind choosing to spend my days with teenagers.

And then one of you does something unexpectedly brave or thoughtful or hilarious or kind, and I remember exactly why I’m here.

So this little corner of the internet is for you.

I’ll write when there’s something rattling around in my head that I think might be worth sharing. You can read it. Or not. You can agree with me. Or not. You may think I’m completely wrong about something.

That’s okay, too.

Mostly I just want you to know this:

I see you as more than the student sitting in front of me today.

I’m interested in the person you’re becoming.

I hope you’re interested in that person, too.

Let’s see what happens.

With enormous hope for you,

Ms. Parks (S’Parks)