my secret life as a kindergarten teacher

It happens every year at the end of summer. 

My mind races with new ideas. 

I can’t sleep. 

I spend infinite hours working for no pay. 

My friends wonder why I have become so unavailable.

 I have to laugh. 
How did I end up here? 
I am surrounded by pastel colors, hundreds of children's books, a rocking chair, a story pit and an alphabet chart. 
This has become the backdrop for my life. 

I am a kindergarten teacher. 

It’s ironic. 

I was a girl who less than ten years ago did not even want to have children of my own.
Now, I choose to spend my days with five year olds.
 

When I graduated high school, I didn't know what I wanted to be. 

I had a whole list of possibilities: 

a best selling author
a photographer
an international artist
maybe something to do with fashion

But never had the word "teacher" appeared on my list. 

As I entered my freshman year at Indiana University, my counselor assured me that I had plenty of time to decide.  

"You have at least a year," I remember her saying, 

"Unless you want to do elementary education. You need to get started on that right away. It is a four year program." 

"No." I said immediately, dismissing the idea.
 

I had pretty much settled on a business major. 

It seemed like a good starting place for all of my big dreams. 

I took an introduction to business class, and at my counselor's advice, 

I reluctantly took an introduction to education course as well. 

She had explained that a secondary education degree could lead me into many other fields.

  

I took my first business class with my then boyfriend, now husband. 

 He kept me distracted the entire hour and studying for exams together was basically just time well wasted.

 Aside from knowing that I would never take another class with him, I also knew early on that business was just not for me.

I have never been very analytical and sequential. 

Business was both.

I felt lost. 

To my surprise, I found myself enjoying the education class. 
My professor helped us explore our interests by allowing us to experience all different levels of education. 
One day we focused on elementary level activities and I rolled my eyes when she told us we were going to go outside to “play some games.” 

Before I knew it, I was sucked in, totally engaged in laughing and learning. 
I didn’t remember elementary school feeling like that. 
It stuck with me for weeks. 
It got me thinking. 

 

At the end of the semester we had to present lessons.
Everyone signed up for a different grade level. 
When it was my turn, the only spot available was “early childhood education”. 
I researched and over prepared as I would have for any project, but I felt sick as I realized I was about to read a picture book and lead fellow college students in a lesson about shapes. 

Somehow, it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. 

All I had to do was mention that I was considering teaching to my counselor, 
and I was rushed to fill my schedule with elementary education courses. 
I was already a semester behind. 
What followed was a blur of events. 
I was on the fast track to becoming a teacher.

I have to admit, I was never completely sold on it. 

 Even as I headed into student teaching I was pretty sure that I would not be a teacher forever, or maybe not at all. 

The following summer, I did not have a job and I was about to get married.  

 I remember thinking that if I didn't get a teaching job, I would be okay. 

 I had many other talents and interests. 

I would find something. 

A few weeks before our wedding, I was offered a full-time teaching position. 

 It certainly eased the worry about how we would pay our bills.
  

My first year was hard. 

  
Really hard. 

I felt like I was constantly trying to keep my head above water. 

I didn't have a second to myself. 
I could explain an assignment extensively and even implement an "ask three before you ask me" policy, but every time I sat down to send an email or catch my breath, I would feel a little tap and hear, 
 "Mrs. Jansen, my shoe is untied." 
"Mrs. Jansen, my pencil broke." 
"Mrs. Jansen, my tooth is wiggly." 

It was enough to drive any sane person over the edge.

At the same time, it was absolutely, positively exhilarating. 
I was hooked. 
I loved those children and I was obsessed with trying to create lessons that would grab and hold their attention. 
It was all I thought about and all I talked about. 

I didn't think I would survive the last day of the school year. 
I cried on and off throughout the entire six-and-a-half-hour day. 
How could I ever love another group of students this much?  

I felt the exact same way the next year. 

The truth is, teaching is like nothing I could have ever imagined. 

 When I am in that classroom, I am living a secret life. 

  I become a person I didn’t even know existed inside of myself. 

I am an actress, on a stage with a captive audience. 
I am confident. I feel alive. 
In real life, I am a terrible singer and I have stage freight. 
But in that classroom, I belt out songs loudly and often without any shame.

I have always wanted to be an artist or an author and in my classroom, I am the world's greatest artist and author. 
Every time I draw something on the board or read an example of my writing during writer's workshop, my starry-eyed students "ooh" and "ahh" in admiration. 

No matter how hard I try to explain it, it seems as though no one can understand what I do all day.

  It’s as if I leave my house each morning and go to a secret world. 
A few of my friends have come in to meet my class and see what I do, but the funniest thing happens every time. 

My students get quiet. 
They act strange. 
I probably do too. 
There is an outsider in our midst.

I am privy to experience intimate moments in which childrens' lives are forever changed. 

Every time that light bulb goes off, and one of my students learns how to read, I feel like I have just witnessed a miracle. 

They see the world through new eyes. 

They see it in writing.

It's not just me doing the teaching in that room. 

  Children have an interesting and short-lived perspective on life. 
It is innocent, simple and ultimately genius.

I have learned so much about love from my students. 
Five-year-olds have a "say it when you feel it" policy with the "L" word. 
It is not uncommon for me to be deep into a lesson, 
passionately explaining how "Silent 'E' Man" swoops in and causes a short vowel to become long, 
when suddenly, two little arms are wrapped around me and a sweet voice is saying, 
"I love you, Mrs. Jansen."

They are changing me.   

I do not remember my kindergarten teacher’s name or learning how to read. 
Many of them will never remember me. 
They will not remember all of the special moments we share each day, but I will never forget them.

I still think that there are about a thousand other occupations that I would love to try, 

and yet I don't know that I will ever be able to give up this gig. 
 

Something comes over me when someone asks me what I do. 

It has become an intricate part of my identity.

I beam with pride.  

"I am a teacher."

And just for the record, I am not just any ordinary teacher. 

I am the best. 

Don't believe me? 

I have over a hundred handwritten testimonials to prove it, all stating something along these lines:

Der Mrs. Jansen,
U are the best techr I hav evr had.

  
(I am also the only teacher they have ever had, but shhh… don't tell them that.)