I don’t think there was a kid on this planet who loved school as much as I did when I was younger. Summer was way too boring and all I wanted to do was get back with my friends and work on my multiplication tables because I genuinely thought they were cool. I loved science. I REALLY loved English (short stories were totally my thing, can you tell?). And of course I loved recess and gym class with all of my friends (you will NEVER find a fun equal to that damn parachute, I wish the whole world could start their day inside one of those paradises of happiness).

Of course grade school was hands down, easily the most exciting because of all the cool trips, bake sales, Christmas decorations, and overall just FUN. But the real reason that I loved elementary school wasn’t due to the games, AR points, field trips, or even the holiday themed parties. The real reason I looked forward to going to school every day was because I got to learn from the person I looked up to the most outside of my parents.

The figurative pedestal that I put my elementary school teachers on was unmatched by anyone else on this planet. I. Thought. They. Knew. Everything. I thought they were the smartest people in the world and God made them teachers so that we could all be as smart as they were. Their warm and welcoming faces are memories that I will hold on to forever.

The lessons that you taught us so young really have carried over and looking back, I can clearly see the underlying messages (you clever little genius devils, you). Second grade-me heard “use your class time wisely” while semi-adultish me hears “procrastination is the root of all evil… and that essay is due at midnight.” Fourth grade-me heard “play nice with each other!” adultish me hears “yeah, she might actually be Satan herself but she’s your lab partner for the semester, so deal with it.” Kindergarten me heard “wash your hands so you don’t get sick” adult me hears “you have 3 exams and 5 papers within the next two weeks, you don’t have time to get sick.” Regardless of the reminder, it always came from a place of wisdom and love, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Thank you so much for all that you did for us. Your compassion and love for teaching was so obvious and crucial to our learning. I know it couldn’t have been easy day in and day out, and there were probably times when you questioned why you even got into teaching, but take it from a kid who thought you absolutely hung the moon; you are so very appreciated. Yes, sometimes it feels like you are a doormat. But sometimes you’re the only smiling face a kid sees all day. Sometimes you’re the only mother/father figure someone has in his or her life. And sometimes you’re just flat out adored without even knowing it (I still think my second grade teacher was the prettiest lady I had ever seen. You go Ms. Tony, work those gauchos and Birkenstocks, girl).

So if you have the blessing of being a teacher, no matter what grade level, please understand the impact you have on your kids. They look up to you way more than you realize and really do mimic the example you set for them. The passion that my third grade teacher had for science literally had such an influence on my decision to be a biology major in college. The way my fifth grade teacher made multiplication tables a race fueled my drive and competitiveness in academics that stayed with me all throughout high school. I really do believe that creating a playing field is what helped me eventually earn my scholarship, knowing that if I wanted something I had to work for it, just like those fifth grade times table games.

So as we get back into the swing of things and find our routines again, teachers please remember how important you are. We looked up to our grade school instructors so much. Thank you for all the extra hours you put in that go unnoticed by everyone. Thank you for the little things you did that made kids like me fall in love with school. And just thank you for being such a selfless person that you dedicate your lives to children’s betterment. That is absolutely something to be proud of.