Lessons from teaching

This weekend was Brandon and Brittany’s b’nai mitzvah. In my six years of teaching fourth grade, I had four sets of boy-girl twins. I was always struck by both the bond between them, and their attempts to hide it because, after all, ew, it’s a girl, and ew, it’s a boy. Brandon and Brittany were always particularly bad at pretending they didn’t like each other all that much.

I hadn’t seen them in about a year. They are tall and pretty, and tall and handsome, and still the same cheerful, happy children they were three years ago. They did a magnificent job. Services today were like old home week for me—there were ten of my students from two different years there, as well as their parents. The kiddush lunch was a great time to catch up with everyone, and solidified my decision to have a daled class reunion Chanukah party this year.

I miss teaching. I really miss the kids. It was nice to find out that they still think of me, as well. The twins’ father told me today that they told him I was their favorite Hebrew school teacher. And that’s three years after they were my students.

Those six years were sometimes extremely difficult, sometimes a lot of fun, but overall, I think the six years I taught Hebrew school were a gift. To me, not to them. Jamie told me last night that she and Zack, one of the twins’ classmates, were bored and trying to figure out what game to play. “Let’s play Daled ball!” Zack said. That’s a game I made up three years ago to try to keep bored fourth graders learning while also giving them recess. We’d stand in a big circle and toss the ball. You had to say something that had something to do with Judaism or you couldn’t pass the ball. It could be a Hebrew word, a letter, the name of a holiday, the name of a prayer, almost anything. And the fact that three years later, Zack still wanted to play it—well, like I said. It’s a gift.

I saw Zack today. He had a big grin and a wave. And he talked me into getting him some chocolate cake from the grownup’s dessert table. (I’ve always had a soft touch, and they all know it.)

The children have, over the years, taught me at least as much as I taught them. And now they’re growing up into amazing young men and women. My first class is in their junior year in high school. They’ll be off to college soon.

I think it’s time to go back to teaching, at least as a substitute. I can’t take Tuesdays off from work any more, but I don’t think I’d mind being around children on a Sunday morning, teaching them to read and write Hebrew. Especially now that my little ones are growing up.