It’s like you are Nanny Macphee…..


So the day came. It was as horrific as I thought. I had started the grieving process a while ago. Even when you make the decision to leave a school it’s still really hard. The weans were waiting for me at 715 and I cried all day.
We listened to music, drank coffee and just enjoyed being. One of my boys held it together then he showed me this link:

I had the proper tear drops rolling down my cheek.

So to the weans I send this:

Dear weans,
I had the best happy and sad day with you on Thursday. Looking at my memory books, the cards, the wee notes and all the gifts made me think about you all again today. I know I have told you this before, but I don’t think you ever believe us when we tell you that you just can’t quantify the hours a teacher spends worrying or thinking about the weans. Well I know you can’t.
I was overwhelmed by your kindness and touched by your emotions. You did indeed break me. But I don’t really think you will ever know how much I have to take away from having had the privilege of being your teacher.
Being a teacher is a privilege and I’ve never forgotten that. I had the best teachers your could ask for. Few dodgy ones of course, ( aye, you know the subjects I used to skip to go down the beach but let’s not go there….it’s not like I was running!)
I started my teaching career and discovered very quickly that I loved working with young people, I hated the paperwork but loved the weans.
That has never left me and I have been found to say to people, do you want me to push paper or teach weans? When I have not been able to be in class I’ve learned to live with the fact that when I am there I’ll do my very best to look after you and help you to be your best self, but when I am not I have to trust that someone else will. ( like a parent, I know they won’t do it like I do, the C-T way)
Before I came to the first floor , one of the staff members at school told me that he had never been professionally happier and I totally agree. I have had the joy and privilege of teaching some of the most outstanding, inspiring and weans the most ready to leave their mark in this world, that I have ever met.
Teaching in our school requires the very best of staff and I hope you know I have tried to give you the very best of me.
Being a great teacher depends on a lot things but like any good manager, you are only as good as the team around you and for me,I had the best team of weans.
People often ask what it is I teach, and the answer is not what, it is who. I teach the #allsaintsallstars
There are so many memories from my time in all saints that I don’t know where to begin. They all involve weans and probably falling about laughing.
There were the big ones, like the events, ( no one organises an event like we do) the fundraising, soup kitchen, night fever etc,but my favourite memories usually involve coffee, chatting ,eating laughing and being in room 226 with the good people. ( aye, probably did a bit of greeting too)
When I came to All Saints I felt like I had come home, and I wanted to create a wee home for the weans. I’m glad that you felt you had a home.
Being a teacher is a bit like being in love, you are excited, full of energy, it can be all-consuming and you can think of nothing else. It can also be unbearably frustrating.
You’ll never know how proud I am of each and every one of you, how much I loved coming into work, what a giggle I had as I taught you the shire patter, and what a joy is what to be part of your day. The pleasure was indeed all mine.
You’ve given me more memories and smiles than I can fit into my heart and for that I’ll always be in your debt. Don’t let anyone dull your sparkle and always remember to be your best self, no one else.
You will always have a massive part in my wee heart and my kettle will always be on for you.

Mrs C-T x


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s