- Once you’re assigned a seat in my classroom, you’re forever one of my kids. Like it or not (sorry).
- Although I go home to children of my own, you’re never not in my thoughts. I worry and care about you well past the last ringing of the bell.
- I think about where you’ll be 10 years from now. Your city, it’s rough. Will you have beat the unfortunate odds and become a college graduate? Or will you sadly become another statistic I cry over when reading the news?
- I’ve wanted to adopt more than one of you. More than once. More than five times if I’m honest.
- I try to be a pillar of stability for you. I let you into my life by showing you photos of my husband and two girls, but spare you details because I know my kiddos are much more fortunate than many of you. I’d never want to make you sad or envious that.
- While we’re on emotions, I see you when you’re angry and acting out. And no matter what any other adult (even teacher) may tell you: you’re not a bad kid. You’re having a bad day. You’re not a troublemaker. You’re in often unthinkable circumstances.
- I didn’t get into this profession for the lifestyle as some educators may. Honestly, yes it’s nice to have time with my own children during the summer, but I never stop hoping you get to that park or designated school for the free breakfast and lunch our district offers every week day.
- I care less about you knowing how to write the perfect essay than I do about you becoming the great people I know you can be.
- Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you. Know you’re loved. You’re appreciated. You matter.
- Never allow yourself to be labeled. You are you and that’s exactly what this world needs.
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