Why I Do What I Do

Since I started writing this blog family and friends keep asking me why I continue to subject myself to the anger that takes place in my classroom.  Here is why I continue to do this.  On Wednesday of this week I signed in so the administrative staff  knew that I'm in the building.  I then check my mail box for mail.  Today I have mail.  It's a letter written on the official lined paper that is used for scholars that are still working on their handwriting skills.  This is what it said.

August 19, 2014

Dear Mr. Schultz,

I appreciate you helping me when I'm mad.  And you deal with my problems.

Sincerely,

Guest Scholar

I met this guest scholar in art class during the second week of school.  He is in the third grade and during art class he got loud and disruptive and was told by the teacher to go sit at a desk in the back of the room. While he went peacefully his revenge for being asked to move was to bang on his new desk and make other loud noises.  So the teacher could stay on task I got up and walked over to him and asked him why he was having such a bad day.  He said so and so was making fun of me and so and so was laughing so I got mad. So I tell him the next time something like that happens rather that getting mad you get up and come sit by me. While he did absolutely no work in art class he remained silent.  Since our first encounter in art class I had to approach this guest scholar two other times due to his loud and very active behavior.  After our third encounter he said to me what is your name?  I replied Mr. Schultz.

Fast forward two or three school days and while walking down the hallway I see the guest scholar's teacher. She stopped me and said I gave my students a writing assignment and they had to write a letter to someone they appreciate.  She then told me his letter was addressed to me.  I asked her if I could have a copy and she said sure I'll put it in your mailbox when I have a minute.  One day after receiving the letter I see the guest scholar's teacher leading her class down the hallway.  I stopped her and asked if I can talk to the guest scholar and she said sure.  As I move down the hallway we see each other at about the same time.  He steps out of line and head towards me with a huge smile on his face and gives me a hug.  I look down at him and say I have your letter and I just wanted to you to know that your letter was the best letter I ever received while at school.  He looks up with another huge smile on his face and gives me another hug.  He then heads off down the hallway to catch up with his class.

I've been flipped off, cussed out, screamed at, had pencils, erasers, books and chairs thrown at me.  I've been punched and kicked a lot of times.   That comes with the territory of working in a classroom with scholars that have emotional disabilities.  All of that is rendered meaningless when one simple letter from a third grade guest scholar appears in my mailbox.

I rode my bicycle twenty eight miles in the heat and humidity this morning (Saturday).  Time to take a nap.