I love my job.
I feel like what we do is important.
I feel like we make a difference.
I feel like I'm pretty good (not great, but pretty good) at it too.
But sometimes, that one student you have spent the most time with teaching that one thing over and over five different ways, still doesn't get it.
Sometimes a former student comes by to tell you that her mom lost her job and they have to move in with her grandmother in another state.
Sometimes you find out that a student has not been honest with you and your heart breaks into 1,000 pieces and falls all over your primary colored carpet.
Sometimes you teach this most amazing lesson with Minion type dancing, Taylor Swift like singing, and visuals that rival Google! The kids are applauding, you are bowing, and your brightest kid comes up and says, "What are we doing? I wasn't listening."
Sometimes you look at the calendar and see that your days are numbered with these most amazing children who sometimes don't listen and sometimes don't follow directions and sometimes don't get it and sometimes break your heart and all the time remind you why you chose to do what you do.
Sometimes teaching is hard.