Christmas Gift For My Students

I wanted to get the kiddos a little something for Christmas.

I wrote them a little note sealed with some Smarties because, you know.

I wrapped some small presents, and they can take one on their way out of class at the end of the week. They’re really nothing special. The presents, that is, not the students. The students ARE really something special. I lucked out this year, but I think I say that every year I teach.

I wrote them all the same letter, but stuck a post-it note on it with a couple of book recommendations for each student.  I told each of them that if I could buy them a book for Christmas, I’d buy them ____________ (insert a book title I think they’d like based on what I’ve observed and what I know about each of them.)

 I also made them a planner page for their Christmas break.  I know, that sounds terribly lame, doesn’t it? Here’s the letter I attached with it, though. Maybe it’s not as dorky as it seems?

Dear Eighth Graders, 

When I was your age, my dad brought home a planner for me from his work. It had a brown cover with white monthly planner pages, and “Northwestern University 1989-1990” was on the front in gold letters. It could be that he meant for me to keep track of my school assignments on it, but I wrote down the outfits I planned on wearing that week.

  It was over Christmas break though, that I began to fill the boxes with details about my day: 12/21-went sledding with Celena, Chris, and Brian. 12/22-orthodontist appointment, then to Celena’s, dipped candy canes in Cool Whip. Celena’s mom got mad. 12/23-red cords, red and white GUESS sweatshirt, hair curly. Went to the mall. Bought Gummy Bears at Candy Junction, and hair clips at Clare’s. Other days, I’d write the Top 5 songs on B96, which was the Top 40 station. Sort of like 99.5.

 I remember my 8^th grade Christmas break well, even though it happened more than 20 years ago. And while what I shared with you in the last paragraph doesn’t seem all that exciting, jotting down those little snippets helped me love my life. It helped me wonder about it. Back then, we called it junior high instead of middle school, and I think educators decided that if we changed the name, then the awkward, confusing, hilarious, wonderful things that go on when you’re thirteen and fourteen would no longer happen. I’m not sure that’s true, but what I do think is that there is always something else growing in all that confusion, and that, if you attend to it, what seems dark will eventually shimmer.

One of your classmates recently wrote in an essay “nothing beautiful has no scars,” and he is right: what’s beautiful holds a tremendous amount of pain and failure. I believe that’s the only kind of beauty that can change us. And I think the seeds of this kind of beauty are planted in what seems like mundane details of our lives: candy canes in cool whip after an orthodontist appointment, wearing a favorite outfit to get gummy bears and hair accessories with your best friend, etc. etc.

So for Christmas, I’m giving you some planner pages. Write down what outfits you wore, how many people you texted, what hashtag you followed. Write down songs you listened to, which Christmas cookie was your favorite. Write down how the church smelled while you held the candles and sang, “Silent Night” on Christmas Eve.

 This isn’t an assignment. I won’t collect it in January. It’s a gift. A tool. It’s a lens with which to examine and wonder about your life. One of you said after reading “Dodging Skittles” that nothing like that has ever happened to you. When I was thirteen, I probably would’ve said the same thing. Except my dad gave me a planner and I used it as a collection jar to store events that would turn into memories. It would take years and years of looking at them again and again until I could turn them into stories. The work is grueling and sad, and very satisfying, and I don’t expect you to be able to do it in my class. But I hope when you return in 2015 you will be ready to practice this sort of work.

            In the meantime, the Merriest of Christmases to you. I love being your teacher.

 I hope they like it.