I have kids. No, they do not come home with me at the end of the day, but I have a classroom full of kids that might as well be my own, as I have watched them journey through highs, lows, and days when they need a few extra hugs to get by. I was raised by a teacher, never quite understanding why my mother referred to her students as her children - after all, she only saw them for a few hours a day and then left them, right? Wrong. The concept of students being more than students was something that I only later began to understand when I took my place in a classroom, giving myself up to be shaped by the kids that I teach.

There are lessons that come in stages as a teacher, some which I have yet to learn, and some that made themselves clear to me the moment that I decided teaching was the path I wanted to follow. The biggest lesson that I can easily explain to those that do not find themselves in a classroom; however, is this: I have learned more from the students I teach than perhaps what they have learned from me.

I have learned that chocolate milk can fix even the worst of days.

This seems wildly outrageous, but I dare you to find a classroom where chocolate milk is not a reason to celebrate. In fact, it may be the first piece of exciting news that they tell their parents at the end of the day. Adding even a bit of sweetener to the simple things in life can make them even more special than they already are, a lesson that chocolate milk, of all things, has taught me.

I have learned that laughter cures what band-aids cannot.

I teach some pretty tough kids. I also teach some kids who think that a paper cut is a bullet wound. Whether their injury is as small as a scrape or as big as a broken bone, I’ve found that laughter helps them in more ways than one. Sometimes injuries run deeper than just surface wounds. Sometimes, kids just need to be hugged and told a joke if only to see a smile light up their face. I’ve also found that normally, laughter is incredibly contagious, and you can have the entire room lit up with smiles in just moments.

I have learned that “I love you” is a promise.

I hear these words almost as often as I hear my own name echoed around the classroom. Luckily, they are my favorite words to hear. “I love you” cannot be spoken enough, especially when working with kids. There is something about the relationship between a teacher and child that becomes so much more dynamic when that promise is made. Why is it a promise? Because all too often, teachers are the only people telling a child those words. “I love you,” “you are smart,” “you are so important,” these are phrases that have somehow gotten lost in translation in so many kids’ lives. They are also the phrases that they need to hear the most.

I have learned that teaching is an investment.

I love hearing teachers’ stories about where their kids are now. I love when my mom comes home and talks about her former students and the careers they’ve taken on. I didn’t realize how prevalent the kids you teach are in your life; however, until I started working in a daycare. The same daycare, actually, that I attended when I was in PreK. The fact that the table where I sat to learn my alphabet and how to write my name is now where I sit to teach my own kids how to sound out sight words is amazing to me. I’ve only been teaching for a short amount of time, but already, I’ve watched some extraordinary kids grow and take steps towards discovering who they are. It is for that reason that teaching is most definitely an investment.

I have learned that being a teacher is a passion, not a profession.

I do not teach because I want a job. I do not seek to work with children because I think that they are cute. I teach because without my kids, a great part of me would be lost. It’s hard to explain this to those who do not enjoy teaching; my greatest love in life is seeing my kids. They are my greatest hello and my hardest goodbye; I teach them because I am passionate about helping them learn about the curriculum, the world, and themselves. I do not teach because it is a profession, I teach because it is a passion.