This week is National School Counseling Week. I have enjoyed being appreciated by my school!!
But I've also been a little bit sad.
This week has been filled with a kid whose dad is in jail for molestation, a child who is raising herself while her mom works, a student unmotivated to work, and a couple of 7 and 8 yr olds threatening suicide. Add in a few teachers who want to quit or are at their breaking points. Sprinkle in some students who are struggling academically even WITHOUT family struggles to complicate matters.
And that's just this week.
But-- in the past week, a student who wouldn't open up to anyone else shared some private things with me. Another student told me his (albeit short) life story filled with pain. I had a teacher volunteer to eat with a student who desperately misses her mom in hopes of being that support for her. Second graders had specific examples of ways they felt love through me. They wrote them down.
"Thanks for talking helping when my parents divorst."
"My mom died and you loved me."
"I was crying. You said it's ok."
"You are nice."
"I erased all of the people I don't know on social media to stay safe."
"You give good hugs."
"You smell good when I hug you."
"You teach me to love me."
I was telling my husband, Jason, that sometimes I'm worn out from the hard things. The kids who are struggling academically. The kids at the end of their ropes emotionally. The teachers who question their decision to tackle a difficult job in a difficult school. I told him that I never get the good.
He reminded me that the kid who talks to me and no one else-- that's the good. The kid who appreciates my hugs--- that's the good. You felt safe to share your horror with me?? Win.
My "good" may not look like someone else's "good".
It's my bittersweet. I have to work through the bitter to appreciate the sweet.
I may never have the student who was inspired by me to write the essay that got them into some accredited program.
But I've had the kid who told me that the safest he ever felt was at Christie. The student who thanked me for loving her.
I'll never be able to show you the percentage of graduates based on my instruction or how my work impacts state testing. But I go to bed knowing that I loved and loved deeply.
And when I get to a week set aside to appreciate school counselors, I am humbled. Because those sweet kids who give me purpose have turned around and poured back into me.
It's our relationship. I give to them. And they give to me.
I have the best job ever.
