On Monday night, I wrote this …
Brooke has been talking about Ms Nick incessantly. She’s been asking us what it means to retire. Telling us again and again that Ms Nick doesn’t work at her school anymore. That she went to visit Paris when she was all done working. That she misses her.
Last night, I asked her if she might want to write a letter to Ms Nick. I told her that I would see if I could get it to her. And so she did. With very minimal prompting, this is what she wrote.
To Ms. Nic,
I miss you.
Why were you in Perris?
I liked reading mumbles the bear with you.
I miss doing music with you.
Why did you retire?
I then asked her if it would be okay if I shared it here, with you. And she said, as only she can, “But of course.”
I asked her because I wanted to you to see this. You, the teacher who isn’t sure if you’re getting through to the kiddo like mine in your class. The kid who doesn’t make eye contact, who doesn’t seem engaged, who shrieks and needs to leave the room when it’s all too much. The kid who can’t sit still, who doesn’t seem to be taking it all, or any of it, in. This is for you. You, who keep at it because you have faith that what you are doing matters. You, who believe that a kid is more than a label, and far, far more than the sum of her challenges. You, who know that she is worth the effort, and then some.
You, who five years later she will remember. And miss. And tell her Mama about.
You, who have made far more impact than you might ever imagine.
You, whose work MATTERS.
Thank you for seeing my child.
She might not have had the words to tell you back then, but she saw you too.