I get at least one or two every day. Students see me at one end of the hall and they start running. They call my name. They throw their arms around me and squeeze in unbridled love and joy.
The smallest arms give me so much. The bright eyes and smile make every morning something to cherish. The satisfied bumps in their steps as they leave make my heart warm with happiness. Every day, I see more of the good in people because of my students. They don't come from privileged backgrounds, but they come from homes that know what love is. They share it openly, without shame or fear. Every day, they say they want to be me. I'm cool. I'm collected. I've got it together. I'm smart and I'm funny. And all they want to be my best friend.
Meanwhile, here I am, watching them and hoping that maybe, I can be a little more like them. So much goes through in those moments when they press up and express their affection and love through their bear hugs. To them, they're just telling a teacher "Hello!" This is what I see:
"Miss, I love you a lot! I don't hug just any teacher, you know. You're worth being hugged. You're worth missing when I don't have your class. You make me feel good about going to school. Thank you."
No, kids. Thank you.
RG
